Since Vallejo has come up on the list recently, and since Liz's poem was compared to his III from Trilce, I thought I'd post my
translation of III. This is from Trilce, published by Sheep Meadow Press, NY, in 1992, though it's with Carcanet in the UK
And perhaps Liz will post Erin's version.
Best,
Rebecca
Rebecca Seiferle
www.thedrunkenboat.com
III
The grown-ups----
what time will they come back?
Blind Santiago cries six o'clock
and it's already very dark.
Mother said she wouldn't be long.
Aguedita, Native, Miguel,
be careful over there, where
doubled-over pains have just passed
snuffling their memories
toward the silent corral and where
the chickens that are going to bed
have already been so frightened.
We better stay here.
Mother said she wouldn't be long.
Now let's not be sad. Let's go look at
the boats--mine, the best one of all!--
with which we played all the blessed day,
without quarrelling, as it should be:
they've stayed in the water tank, ready,
freighted with sweets for tomorrow.
Let us wait like this, obedient and helpless,
for the return, the apology
of the grown-ups, always first
to leave us home with the little ones
as if we, too,
might not have to depart.
Aguedita, Nativa, Miguel?
I call out, I grope through the dark.
Don't have left me alone
or let me be the only one left.
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