Ida Vitale, translated by Katherine M. Hedeen and Víctor Rodríguez Núñez

Gratitudes de verano

En el verano:
viento de la esquina,
verde sobreviviente en la sequía,
tenue, obstinada nube que aparece
y cruza sola el cielo imperturbable,
agasajo de la sombra del árbol,
vaso de agua al regreso: muchas gracias.

Rapado, el pasto tiene olores
a pequeño cadáver indeciso,
otra culpa del verano profundo.
Desolada de ferocísimo sol,
esta pared lo escupe. Sólo faltan
tristezas de pájaros agónicos
para mojar el borde de un pañuelo.

A ti, alfabeto,
gracias te sean dadas,
por acudirme, pese a esta miseria:
musitas y aminoras con memorias
de milagrosas y narradas lluvias,
de mares y manzanas tanto agobio,
que olvido este calor y que aún lo escribo. 

Summer Gratitudes

In summer:
corner wind,
surviving verdant in drought,
tenuous, stubborn cloud appearing
and crossing unshakeable sky alone,
warm welcome of tree shadow,
glass of water upon returning: thanks very much.

Close-cropped, grass has scents
of small undecided cadaver,
another deep summer fault.
Desolated from such ferocious sun,
this wall spits it out. Only
sadnesses of agonal birds
are missing to wet handkerchief edge.

To you, alphabet,
thanks be given,
for coming to me, despite this misery:
you whisper and slow up with memories
of miraculous recounted rains,
of seas and apples, so overwhelmed
I forget this heat, I even write it.

Amar a un conejo

Te dieron un conejo.
Te dejaron amarlo
sin haberte explicado
que es inútil amar
lo que te ignora.

To Love a Rabbit

They gave you a rabbit.
Let you love it
without explaining
that it’s useless to love
what pays you no mind.

Medición de distancias

Si una ciudad no late,
hasta un árbol es nada
y un balcón es tronera
o precipicio.
Serás el prisionero
a quien nadie vigila,
en propio pecho encarcelado.

Entiende lo incomprensible
y ámalo. Ocupa el revés del intento:
sé cardo, cuando llegaste como lana,
piedra, cuando, hilo de seda, flotarías.

Measure of Distances

If a city doesn’t pulse,
even a tree is nothing
and a balcony loophole
or cliff.
You will be the prisoner
nobody guards
in your own chest captive.

Understand the inexplicable
and love it. Take up the other side of the attempt:
be thistle, when you arrived like wool,
stone, when, silk thread, you would float.

Ida Vitale

Ida Vitale (Montevideo, 1923) is a poet, essayist, critic, translator, literature professor and the author of more than thirty books. These poems are from Mella y criba (Valencia: Pre-Textos, 2010). She was forced into exile in 1974 and since 1989 has lived in Austin, Texas. She has won Uruguay’s National Poetry Prize, the Octavio Paz and the Alfonso Reyes Prizes in Mexico, and the Reina Sofía Prize for Iberoamerican Poetry in Spain. 

Víctor Rodríguez Núñez

Víctor Rodríguez Núñez (1955) is one of Cuba’s most outstanding contemporary writers. He has published thirty books of poetry throughout Latin America and Europe, and has received major awards all over the Spanish-speaking world, most recently Spain’s Loewe Prize. He divides his time between Gambier, Ohio, where he is Professor of Spanish at Kenyon College, and Havana, Cuba.

Katherine M. Hedeen

Katherine M. Hedeen is Professor of Spanish at Kenyon College. Her latest book-length translations include collections by Hugo Mujica and Víctor Rodríguez Núñez. She edits two Latin American Poetry in Translation Series, one for Salt Publishing, the other for Arc Publications, and is a two-time recipient of a National Endowment for the Arts Translation Project Grant.

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