I like hinchada. Somehow sounds more important than fluffing. Not much help
to a translator, tho there must be a route back to Latin, or to Greek, and
then forwards to English.
P
> > >> My problem was that all of the possibilities I could think of
> > >> sounded so silly, and there's no silliness to the image in the
> > >> poem. And I wanted something brief, as in the spanish the entire
> > >> parenthetical expression is the word hinchada. Alas.
> > >>
> > >> Here it is. It's by José Kozer.
> > >>
> > >>
> > >> THE TREE OF LIFE
> > >>
> > >> The Greater Antilles began to appear at the sound of a
> pigeon¹s flight.
> > >>
> > >> The flight fashioned the contours of an island of the Greater
> > >> Antilles; the island
> > >> now of hurricanes, guásima trees, the mother tongue
> > >> finally done with naming those things at their hearts
> > >> unsoundable.
> > >>
> > >> How else could one explain that the act of sealing the
> window would
> > >> transpose
> > >> from semi-darkness to a trackless light the
> snow covering
> > >> the length and width of the nation, let the raven be left
> > >> alone in the midst of the squall, the light
> renders violet
> > >> (within it) the fruit at the foot of the raven
> (its feathers
> > >> puffed out against the cold), hunger only hunger could
> > >> convince it to pick the skin from some animal, tossing it
> > >> side to side across its shadow.
> > >
|