{"id":3637,"date":"2015-03-07T23:35:20","date_gmt":"2015-03-07T23:35:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=3637"},"modified":"2015-04-09T17:45:21","modified_gmt":"2015-04-09T17:45:21","slug":"i-shall-find-you-to-tell-you-a-poem-by-amalia-iglesias-translated-from-spanish-by-robin-ouzman-hislop-amparo-arrospide","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/i-shall-find-you-to-tell-you-a-poem-by-amalia-iglesias-translated-from-spanish-by-robin-ouzman-hislop-amparo-arrospide\/","title":{"rendered":"I SHALL FIND YOU TO TELL YOU. A Poem by AMALIA IGLESIAS. Translated from Spanish by Robin Ouzman Hislop & Amparo Arrospide."},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\n 
\nThis work comprises in an excerpt from the anthology on contemporary Spanish female poets entitled Las Diosas Blancas. Madrid, 1985.<\/em> Copyright Ed. Ramon Buenaventura. Hiperion.<\/strong> This is an original and unpublished English version of the original poem written in Spanish. Translators Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospide would like to thank Casa del Traductor, in Tarazona and the British Literary Translation Association, East Anglia University Campus.
\n 
\nFrom this Spanish anthology –compiled by the well-known scholar and translator Mr. Ram\u00f3n Buenaventura, whom we contacted earlier– a few selected authors were chosen for our joint translation work: Amalia Iglesias: Te buscare para decirte (I Will Find You To Tell You)<\/em><\/strong>, Ana Rossetti: Triunfo de Artemis sobre Volupta (Triumph Of Artemis Over Volupta) and Isolda (Isolda) , Blanca Andreu: Para Olga (For Olga) , Isla Correyero: Los Pajaros (Small Birds), Amparo Amoros: Midas (Midas) and Criaturas del gozo (Creatures Of Joy), Rosalia Vallejo: Horno en llamarada (A Furnace In Flames) , Maria del Carmen Pallares: Sisargas (Sisargas), Margarita Arroyo: Era el mar lejos del mar ( It Was Sea Away From Sea).
\n 
\nWe would like to thank Mr. Ram\u00f3n Buenaventura and the above name poets, in advance, and let them rest assured that their work is protected by a legal Creative Commons Licence, by virtue of which the above named translators are willing to provide excerpts from their original translation work, provided that readers agree to use it under the terms of such licence. We strongly recommend reading the entire work and the poets’, who have continued evolving during these decades.
\n
\n 
\n 
\nI will find you to tell you
\nthat I am in love with life,
\nthat I love in the agony
\nits lip that ignores me,
\naimlessly I seek its sweet guillotine,
\nits blade of a thousand edges cutting my surf.
\n 
\nI love life
\nwhich grieves, keeps me late
\nin the night with bitter waking liquor
\nlike a thread of morning fog amidst willows,
\n 
\nthat I love its torn cyst of mandragora,
\nthe glass lagoon which wrecks the years,
\nI love the uncertainty of moss and autumn,
\nthe tenderness and sourness which flow.
\n 
\nIn spite of this blinded fear of slopes
\nwhere I seek you
\nbecause I too evade death
\nand dawn.
\n 
\nAll the fowls of the air drink glycine in your eyes,
\nall the fowls of the air love your body unsheltered,
\nall the fowls of the air inhabit your organs of alcohol without aqueducts,
\nall the wings burn in your combustible mind…
\n 
\nAll the fowls of the air
\nleave the ruins
\n to search weeping that lives North of your breast,
\n to search the scorching fire that inhabits it,
\nnow that they know you as a first person singular,
\nverb to be, time present , mode indicative.
\n 
\nIn another violet sky, I show
\nthat pleated girl, her bags
\nblue and empty.
\n 
\nUNTIL the sea you are the condition of the geyser
\nand the flaming arpeggio.
\nHere awaits you the subjective couch of memory which oscillates.
\nIt now pronounces the malediction,
\nreconstructs that psalm
\nI write in beacons.
\n 
\nDecode the fire:
\nlie down on water,
\nwhisper to the breeze your memorable eyes,
\ntell it that tenderness is a fleeting blow in each wave,
\ntell it that the undercurrent
\nonly reaches the waistline.
\nwhy the wind remains in its penultimate looks.
\n 
\nWHEN this song
\nis no more a sign in the imagination of an ambiguous wind.
\nWhen the streets play with a seditious jungle
\nwith you your legs in mist
\nin the tortured embrace of an estuary.
\nOr when on another day you gaze at the Mediterranean
\nwishing no longer to return and begin
\nno longer to be a wave,
\nnor a propitious coast,
\nnor a sailor\u2019s orphanage without a dawn.
\n 
\nThe wind, only the wind
\nsheltering the madness of birds,
\nthose, others,
\nwhich die from the light beneath the willows,
\nthose that lived because of you under a Romanesque sky,
\nthose that pass by now
\nand die in the sea,
\nin the water fermenting an abundance of names.
\nWhen this song is only
\nspectre and mirage,
\nsearched unremembered,
\nmy heart
\nas a bridge between times
\nresting on the twilight will await you.
\n 
\nMY steps search lethal passports,
\nwhite lethargies for the flame which comes
\nand without pity burns my pupils out.
\n 
\nI write letters and split moons
\nbelieving in Hadrian\u2019s serenity to await death.
\n 
\nI have seen how the night opens an abyss curtain
\nand returns me to the blows of space.
\nI appear at the profound birth
\nthat intoxicates the bonfire\u2019s sensitive latitudes
\n— grass playing fatuous fire
\nthe glass lip eclipsed towards the Orient.
\n 
\nI have seen the tenderness inside Aries
\nfulfil the equinox,
\nborder madness tracing a periphrasis, crossing the flank
\nwhen the moon lies in wait
\nand the north wind tames bridges\u2019 eyes.
\nI have left myself, naked, to the rain
\nto the algid gleam of glass streets.
\n 
\nThrough the candle you burn in the retina of the night,
\nin the hidden abodes
\nwhere on another day we stole with open hands.
\n 
\nBehind the empty volume and the vulnerable hollow
\ninhabited by frost trembling among nettles
\nanother multiple bird
\nturns into unlikely alchemy.
\n 
\nSINCE never I love you and always,
\nfrom everything, perhaps, forever,
\nfrom the emphatic lightning which climbs hours\u2019 ditch
\ntowards the rising whip in my setting pupils,
\nmy prompt voice, my wind:
\na final vertigo \u2014
\nand the most ungrateful delta to finish the journey.
\n 
\nUntil nothingness I wait,
\nuntil remoteness of useless memory and crater without a sunset,
\nuntil doubt intoxicated by heavenly signs,
\nin fever and an August magnetized moon.
\n 
\n 
\nAUTOR:
\nT\u00cdTULO: TE BUSCAR\u00c9 PARA DECIRTE
\n 
\nTe buscar\u00e9 para decirte
\nque estoy enamorada de la vida,
\nque amo en la angustia
\nsu labio que me ignora,
\nbusco sin cauce su dulce guillotina,
\n su espada de mil filos tajando mi oleaje.
\n 
\nAmo la vida
\nque me pesa y me trasnocha,
\ncon el licor amargo que despierta
\ncomo un hilo de bruma entre los sauces,
\n 
\nque amo su quiste roto de mandr\u00e1gora,
\nla laguna de vidrio que naufraga los a\u00f1os,
\namo la incertidumbre del musgo y del oto\u00f1o,
\nla ternura y el \u00e1cido que fluyen.
\n 
\nQue amo la vida,
\na pesar de ese miedo cegado de vertientes
\ndonde te busco,
\nporque a\u00fan esquivo la muerte
\ny amanece.
\n 
\nTODAS las aves beben glicinas en tus ojos,
\ntodas las aves aman tu cuerpo a la intemperie,
\ntodas las aves habitan tus \u00f3rganos de alcohol sin acueducto,
\ntodas las alas incendian tu mente combustible.
\n 
\nTodas las aves
\nsalen de las ruinas
\npara buscar el llanto al norte de tu pecho,
\npara buscar el fuego caliente que lo habita,
\nahora que te saben primera persona singular,
\nverbo ser y presente indicativo.
\n 
\nAquella ni\u00f1a plegada a otro cielo violeta
\nme ense\u00f1a sus bolsillos
\nazules y vac\u00edos.
\nHASTA el mar tu condici\u00f3n de g\u00e9yser
\ny de arpegio incendiado.
\nAqu\u00ed te espera el lecho subjetivo de memoria que oscila.
\nPronuncia ahora la maldici\u00f3n,
\nreconstruye el salmo aquel
\nescrito en las antorchas.
\nDescodifica el fuego:
\nacu\u00e9state en el agua,
\nsus\u00farrale a la brisa sus ojos memorables,
\ndile que la ternura es un golpe fugaz en cada ola,
\ndile por qu\u00e9 la marejada
\ns\u00f3lo sabe trepar a su cintura,
\npor qu\u00e9 se queda el viento en sus pen\u00faltimas miradas.
\n 
\nCUANDO esta canci\u00f3n
\nya no sea un signo en la imaginaci\u00f3n ambigua del viento.
\nCuando las calles jueguen a selvas sediciosas
\ny t\u00fa te pierdas en la niebla,
\nen los tortuosos brazos de la r\u00eda.
\n 
\nO cuando otro d\u00eda mires el Mediterr\u00e1neo
\ny ya no quieras volver a empezar
\ny ya no quieras ser ola
\nni costa propicia
\nni asilo mar\u00edtimo de ni\u00f1os sin aurora.
\n 
\nEl viento, s\u00f3lo el viento
\nacogiendo la locura de los p\u00e1jaros,
\naquellos, otros,
\nque mor\u00edan por la luz bajo los sauces
\naquellos que viv\u00edan por ti en la frente rom\u00e1nica del cielo,
\nlos que ahora pasan
\ny mueren en el mar,
\nen el agua donde fermenta la espesura de los nombres.
\nCuando esta canci\u00f3n ya s\u00f3lo sea
\nespectro y espejismo,
\nbuscado desrecuerdo,
\nmi coraz\u00f3n,
\ncomo un puente entre los tiempos,
\nte esperar\u00e1 sentado en el crep\u00fasculo.
\n 
\nMIS pasos buscan pasaportes letales,
\nletargos blancos para la llama que viene
\ny sin piedad me abrasa las pupilas.
\n 
\nEscribo cartas y lunas demediadas
\nmientras creo en la serenidad de Adriano para esperar a la muerte.
\n 
\nHe visto c\u00f3mo la noche abre una cortina de abismo
\ny me regresa de golpe a los espacios.
\nMe he asomado a la eclosi\u00f3n profunda
\nque embriaga las latitudes sensibles de la hoguera
\ny al pairo el c\u00e9sped jugando a fuego fatuo,
\nel labio de vidrio eclipsado hacia Oriente.
\n 
\nHe visto entrar la ternura en Aries,
\ncumplirse el equinoccio,
\nbordear la locura trazando una per\u00edfrasis, cruzando de costado
\ncuando la luna acecha
\ny la tramontana domestica los ojos de los puentes.
\nMe he dejado a la lluvia desnuda y permeable,
\nal \u00e1lgido destello de las calles en vidrio.
\n 
\nA trav\u00e9s de la vela que t\u00fa enciendes en la retina de la noche,
\nen los ocultos \u00e1mbitos
\nen que otro d\u00eda robamos con las manos abiertas.
\n 
\nDetr\u00e1s del volumen vac\u00edo y el hueco vulnerable
\ndonde habita la escarcha tiritando entre ortigas
\ny otro p\u00e1jaro m\u00faltiple
\nse hace alquimia improbable.
\n 
\nDESDE nunca te quiero y para siempre,
\ndesde todo y quiz\u00e1 y para siempre,
\ndesde el rotundo rayo que sube por la acequia de las horas
\nal l\u00e1tigo crecido en mis pupilas ponientes
\nveloz mi voz, mi viento:
\nv\u00e9rtigo de desembocadura \u2013
\ny el m\u00e1s ingrato delta para acabar el viaje.
\n 
\nHasta la nada espero,
\nhasta lo lejos de la memoria in\u00fatil y el cr\u00e1ter sin crep\u00fasculo,
\nhasta la duda embriagada de r\u00f3tulos celestes,
\nen la fiebre y la luna imantada de agosto.
\n 
\n 
\n<\/strong><\/strong>
\n 
\n\"amalia2\"<\/a>
\n 
\nAmalia Iglesias was born in Menaza, in the province of Palencia, in 1962. She won the prestigious Adonais <\/em>prize in 1985 for Un lugar para el fuego<\/em> and has published several other books of poetry. She lives in Madrid, where she edits Revista de Libros <\/em>and La Alegr\u00eda de los Naufragios<\/em>. Her work has been widely anthologized amediavoz.com\/iglesias.htm<\/a><\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\nPoeta espa\u00f1ola nacida en Menaza, Palencia, en 1962.Desde 1970 se traslad\u00f3 con su familia a Bilbao donde se licenci\u00f3 en Filolog\u00eda Hisp\u00e1nica por la Universidad de Deusto.Actualmente vive en Madrid donde ha sido coordinadora del suplemento Culturas de \u00abDiario 16\u00bb. Dirige desde su creaci\u00f3n,en 1996, de Revista de Libros, de la Fundaci\u00f3n \u00abCaja Madrid\u00bb y adem\u00e1s colabora en la revista de poes\u00eda La alegr\u00eda de los naufragios y en la secci\u00f3n Contempor\u00e1neos del suplemento cultural del peri\u00f3dico \u00abABC\u00bb. Su obra po\u00e9tica est\u00e1 compuesta por \u00abUn lugar para el fuego\u00bb 1984, \u00abMemorial de Amauta\u00bb 1988, \u00abMar en sombra\u00bb 1989,\u00abDados y dudas\u00bb 1996, \u00abT\u00f3tem espantap\u00e1jaros\u00bb, \u00abLa sed del r\u00edo\u00bb y \u00abL\u00e1zaro se sacude las ortigas\u00bb 2006. Ha sido galardonada con los premios de poes\u00eda Adon\u00e1is en 1984, Alonso de Ercilla del gobierno Vasco 1995, con el acc\u00e9sit del Jaime Gil de Biedma en 1996 y el Premio Francisco Quevedo de poes\u00eda 2006.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"OLYMPUS<\/a>
\n 
\n 
\nRobin Ouzman Hislop Editor of the 12 year running on line monthly poetry journal Poetry Life and Times<\/strong>. (See its Wikipedia<\/em> entry at Poetry Life and Times<\/a>). He has made many appearances over the last years in the quarterly journals Canadian Zen Haiku<\/em>, including In the Spotlight Winter 2010<\/em> & Sonnetto Poesia<\/em>. Previously published in international magazines, his recent publications include Voices without Borders Volume 1<\/em> (USA), Cold Mountain Review<\/em>, Appalachian University N Carolina, Post Hoc<\/em> installed at Bank Street Arts Centre, Sheffield (UK), Uroborus Journal<\/em>, 2011-2012 (Sheffield, UK), The Poetic Bond II & 111<\/em>, available at The Poetic Bond and Phoenix Rising from the Ashes<\/em> a recently published Anthology of Sonnets: Phoenix Rising from the Ashes<\/a>. He has recently completed a volume of poetry, The World at Large, for future publication. He is currently resident in Spain engaged in poetry translation projects.<\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\n 
\n\"OLYMPUS<\/a>
\n 
\n<\/p>\n

Amparo Arrospide (Argentina) is a Spanish poet and translator. She has published four poetry collections, Mosaicos bajo la hiedra, Alucinaci\u00f3n en dos actos y algunos poemas, Pa\u00f1uelos de usar y tirar and Presencia en el Misterio<\/em> as well as poems, short stories and articles on literary and film criticism in anthologies and both national and foreign magazines. She has received numerous awards. Together with Robin Ouzman Hislop, she worked as co-editor of Poetry Life and Times<\/em>, an E-zine from 2008-2012<\/b><\/p>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

robin@artvilla.com<\/a>
\nPoetryLifeTimes<\/a>
\nPoetry Life & Times<\/a><\/strong>
\neditor@artvilla.com<\/a><\/p>\n

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    This work comprises in an excerpt from the anthology on contemporary Spanish female poets entitled Las Diosas Blancas. Madrid, 1985. Copyright Ed. Ramon Buenaventura. Hiperion. This is an original and unpublished English version of the original poem written in Spanish. Translators Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospide would like to thank Casa del … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[614,50,43,52,388],"tags":[18,136,3,95,127],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3637"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3637"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3637\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4047,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3637\/revisions\/4047"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3637"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3637"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3637"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}