French to English: Poem II
General field: Art/Literary | |
Source text - French
La mienne est belle ainsi que des vols de parfums —
l'autre jour c'était comme fleur qui s'ouvre —
La mienne est belle comme chairs d'anges en printemps —
C'était l'autre soir tout le soleil sur mon coeur —
les lèvres de la mienne sont la seule caresse —
les parcs spirituels se parent sous ses lèvres —
Dans la clameur elle est le temple et dans la foule l'horizon —
l'accueil de la mienne, la bonne saison —
C'était l'autre matin dans sa tristesse la nuit d'hiver —
la voix de la mienne, la féerie des sons —
C'est pour la vie toute comme fleur qui s'ouvre —
la mienne est belle ainsi que la résurrection — | Translation - English
My lovely lady is like flights of scent—
the other day she opened like a flower—
She is beautiful as angels in the spring—
the other night her sun warmed my heart—
My lady’s lips are the single caress—
spiritual gardens blossom below them—
Mid the din, she is a temple; in a crowd, the horizon—
her embrace, the summer season—
The other morning, winter’s night was in her sadness—
the voice of my lady, a magical sound—
With her, all of life will open like a flower—
my lady is beautiful, like the resurrection—
|
Spanish to English: Inferno
General field: Art/Literary | |
Source text - Spanish
Creo que fue al abrir los ojos que supo que estaba enterrado, no antes. Tenía medio cuerpo bajo los escombros. Los ojos le ardían y se los refregó; debía ser por el polvo que no terminaba de dar vueltas. Ese ardor intenso era lo único que sentía. Tal vez no había estado desmayado y sí apretando los párpados para no ver lo que ahora ya sabía.
Por algún lado, desde atrás de su cabeza, entraba una franja de luz en la que flotaban las motas de polvo.
Ni un ruido, sólo el de su mano al frotarse los ojos, la nariz y los labios como si quisiera arrancarse la sed. Le convenía respirar despacio, sin intentar moverse. Bastante más que la mitad del cuerpo en realidad, estaba hundido de pie. No en estricta posición vertical sino inclinado levemente hacia atrás. Apenas mantenía libres la cabeza y un brazo, lo demás andaba perdido en el fondo sin dar señales de dolor. Reposó la cabeza cuanto pudo. Con la mano levantada interfirió la franja de la luz. Debía ser la luz de un teléfono celular encendido con el resto de batería o una de esas linternitas que se cuelgan en los llaveros y que alguien atinó a tocar en el último instante.
No recordaba nada.
| Translation - English
I believe he only knew he was buried when he opened his eyes, not before. Half his body was beneath the rubble. His eyes burned and he rubbed them. It must have been from the endlessly swirling dust. That intense burning was the only sensation he had. Maybe he had not fainted and yes was squeezing his eyes shut so as not to see what he already knew was there.
From some point behind his head came a band of light in which the motes of dust floated.
Not a sound, just that of his hand rubbing his eyes, his nose and lips, as if he wanted to wipe away his thirst. He needed to breathe slowly, moving as little as possible. Actually, more than half his body was buried upright. Not strictly vertical, but leaning slightly backward. He scarcely had his head and one arm free. The rest, apparently numb, was lost in the depths. He rested his head as much as he could. Using his raised hand, he played with the band of light. It must have been the light of a cell phone using up its battery or else one of those little flashlights people hang on key rings that someone thought to press at the last minute.
He didn’t remember a thing.
|
Portfolio