{"id":5547,"date":"2016-11-02T22:32:29","date_gmt":"2016-11-02T22:32:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=5547"},"modified":"2019-02-11T07:57:51","modified_gmt":"2019-02-11T07:57:51","slug":"nominated-for-the-push-cart-prize-key-of-mist-a-poem-by-guadalupe-grande-translated-from-spanish","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/nominated-for-the-push-cart-prize-key-of-mist-a-poem-by-guadalupe-grande-translated-from-spanish\/","title":{"rendered":"Nominated for the Push Cart Prize. Key of Mist. A Poem by Guadalupe Grande. Translated from Spanish."},"content":{"rendered":"
  Key of Mist is an excerpt from the collected poems Key of Mist<\/a>\r\n\u00a0\r\n\"key-of-mist-thumb\"<\/a>\r\n\r\n                                                                  KEY of MIST<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
I<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
Behind the fence there\u00b4s a ditch\r\n<\/span>and behind the ditch\r\n<\/span>there\u00b4s a chest devastated by the journey.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
Who arrives here and how\r\n<\/span>and after perhaps?\r\n<\/span>Who arrives and says and names\r\n<\/span>and leaves their hands stuck to this fence\r\n<\/span>as stamps are stuck to envelopes,\r\n<\/span>to return where \r\n<\/span>to return to then\r\n<\/span>to return to later, never again?<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
       The compass rose rolls amongst the rubble,\r\n<\/span><\/span>       rolls on the banks of gravel,\r\n<\/span>       on the edge of ash,\r\n<\/span>       and leaves its petals of distance,\r\n<\/span>       its shipwreck of durum-wheat and pollen,\r\n<\/span>       beneath the wheels of the car which has just passed.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
Time for the word time\r\n<\/span>         amidst the rubble of the tower of babel.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
II<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
But now there\u00b4s the ditches:\r\n       water ditches\r\n<\/span>       light ditches\r\n<\/span>       gas ditches\r\n<\/span>       ditches for words.\r\n<\/span>I am spelling\r\n<\/span>while telling myself\r\n<\/span>that it can\u00b4t be today,\r\n<\/span>that there is too much rush,\r\n<\/span>that life\u00b4s a disaster\r\n<\/span>or nonsense\r\n<\/span>or a useless disquiet,\r\n<\/span>and due to that, today there\u00b4s no time:\r\n                                                             <\/span>time for nothing, time for what.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
III<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
I open the door, switch on the light,\r\nturn on the tap:\r\n<\/span>I\u00b4d like to know whom to call.\r\n<\/span>The sound of traffic enters through the window;\r\n<\/span>I hear the rumours of travellers\r\n<\/span>I listen to the sound of the inhabitants\r\n<\/span>         and builders\r\n<\/span>                           of this language without words.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
IV<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
I speak in gurgles\r\nas if a key of mist\r\n<\/span>were laid across my throat,\r\n<\/span>a key fogged up by noise,\r\n<\/span>a key flooded by light,\r\n<\/span>      a gas key\r\n<\/span>      a water key\r\n<\/span>      a doorless key,\r\n<\/span>      a definitely shadowy key\r\n<\/span>buried inside my throat,\r\n<\/span>in the ditch of my bewildered throat.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
V<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
Behind each fence there is a ditch,\r\nbehind each ditch there is a journey.\r\n<\/span>\r\n         The compass rose crosses\r\n<\/span>         the city tunnels:\r\n<\/span>         from its smoky petals it brings\r\n<\/span>         forth mossy farewells,\r\n<\/span>         the empire of forget-me-nots,\r\n<\/span>         paper for unwritten letters,\r\n<\/span>         humiliated stamps\r\n<\/span>         and a devastated chest in the building \r\n<\/span>         of music\r\n<\/span>                       or language\r\n<\/span>                                           or city noise.\r\n<\/span>\r\nUnder the asphalt of these roads\r\n<\/span>the tower of babel grows\r\n<\/span>sad and useful.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
VI<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
I turn on the tap in the kitchen\r\nand while water runs through the sink\r\n<\/span>I wonder which words \r\n<\/span>this thread of order and cleanliness is spelling,\r\n<\/span>which key I should switch to, to understand\r\n<\/span>the language of fences, the language\r\n<\/span>of ditches,\r\n<\/span>the underground sound\r\n<\/span>of migrating birds\r\n<\/span>opening without any key this city\u00b4s gates,\r\n<\/span>           without a key,\r\n<\/span>           at last, \r\n                                      at last.<\/span><\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
LA LLAVE DE NIEBLA<\/strong> <\/span><\/p>\n
I<\/span><\/p>\n
Detr\u00e1s de la valla hay una zanja<\/strong>\r\n<\/span>y detr\u00e1s de esa zanja\r\n<\/span>hay un pecho desolado en el viaje.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
\u00bfQui\u00e9n llega hasta aqu\u00ed y c\u00f3mo\r\n<\/span>y luego tal vez?\r\n\u00bfQui\u00e9n llega y dice y nombra\r\ny deja sus manos pegadas a esta valla,\r\ncomo se pegan los sellos a las cartas,\r\npara volver a d\u00f3nde\r\npara volver a entonces\r\npara volver a luego nunca m\u00e1s?\r\n\r\nRueda la rosa de los vientos por los escombros,\r\nrueda a la orilla de la grava,\r\n<\/span>al borde de la ceniza,\r\n<\/span>y deja sus p\u00e9talos de distancia,\r\n<\/span>su polen n\u00e1ufrago y candeal,\r\n<\/span>bajo las ruedas del coche que acaba de pasar.\r\n<\/span>\r\nTiempo para la palabra tiempo\r\n<\/span>        entre los escombros de la torre de babel.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
II<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
Pero ahora est\u00e1n las zanjas:\r\n<\/span>        zanjas de agua,\r\n        zanjas de luz,\r\n<\/span>        zanjas de gas,\r\n<\/span>        zanjas para las palabras\r\n<\/span>que pronuncio\r\n<\/span>mientras me digo\r\n<\/span>que hoy no puede ser,\r\n<\/span>que hace mucha prisa,\r\n<\/span>que la vida es un desastre\r\n<\/span>o un disparate\r\n<\/span>o un desasosiego in\u00fatil,\r\n<\/span>debido a lo cual hoy no hay tiempo:\r\n         <\/span>tiempo para nada, tiempo para qu\u00e9.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
III<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
Abro la puerta, enciendo la luz,\r\n<\/span>abro el grifo:\r\n<\/span>quisiera saber a qui\u00e9n llamar.\r\n<\/span>Entra el sonido del tr\u00e1fico por la ventana;\r\n<\/span>oigo el rumor de los viajeros,\r\n<\/span>escucho el sonido de los habitantes\r\n<\/span>           y de los constructores\r\n<\/span>                    de este idioma sin palabras.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
IV<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
Hablo a borbotones,\r\n<\/span>como si tuviera una llave de niebla\r\n<\/span>atravesada en la garganta,\r\n<\/span>una llave empa\u00f1ada por el ruido,\r\n<\/span>una llave anegada por la luz,\r\n<\/span>         una llave de gas,\r\n<\/span>         una llave de agua,\r\n<\/span>         una llave sin puerta,\r\n<\/span>         una llave definitivamente umbr\u00eda,\r\n<\/span>enterrada en mi garganta,\r\n<\/span>en la zanja de mi desconcertada garganta.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
V<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
Detr\u00e1s de cada valla hay una zanja,\r\n<\/span>detr\u00e1s de cada zanja hay un viaje.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
         La rosa de los vientos cruza\r\n<\/span>         los t\u00faneles de la ciudad:\r\n<\/span>         trae entre sus p\u00e9talos de humo\r\n<\/span>         el musgo de las despedidas,\r\n<\/span>         el imperio de los nomeolvides,\r\n<\/span>         papel para cartas no escritas,\r\n<\/span>         humillados sellos\r\n<\/span>         y un pecho desolado en la construcci\u00f3n\r\n         de la m\u00fasica\r\n<\/span>\r\n                           o el lenguaje\r\n<\/span>                                             o el ruido de la ciudad.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
Bajo el asfalto de estas calles\r\ncrece la torre de babel\r\n<\/span>triste y \u00fatil.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
VI<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n
Abro el grifo en la cocina\r\ny mientras corre el agua por el fregadero\r\n<\/span>me pregunto qu\u00e9 palabras pronuncia\r\n<\/span>este hilo de orden y limpieza,\r\n<\/span>qu\u00e9 llave debo abrir para entender\r\n<\/span>el lenguaje de las vallas, el idioma\r\n<\/span>de las zanjas,\r\n<\/span>el sonido subterr\u00e1neo\r\n<\/span>de las aves migratorias\r\n<\/span>que abren sin llave alguna las puertas de esta ciudad,\r\n<\/span>         sin llave,\r\n<\/span>         por fin,\r\n                                por fin.<\/span><\/strong><\/pre>\n
 
\n <\/p>\n
\"guadalupe-grande-2001\"
\n 
\n 
\nGUADALUPE GRANDE
\nMadrid, 1965.<\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\nShe has written the following books of poetry: El libro de Lilit<\/em> (1995), La llave de niebla<\/em> (2003), Mapas de cera<\/em> (2006) and Hotel para erizos<\/em> (2010).<\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\nShe has been translated into French in the book M\u00e9tier de crhysalide<\/em> (translation by Droth\u00e8e Suarez and Juliette Gheerbrant (2010) and into Italian, in the volume Mestiere senza crisalide<\/em> (translation by Raffaella Marzano (2015). She made the selection and translation of La aldea de sal<\/em> (2009), an anthology of Brazilian poet L\u00eado Ivo, together with poet Juan Carlos Mestre.<\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\nHer creative work extends to the territory of photography and visual poetry.http:\/\/guadalupegrande.blogspot.com.es\/<\/a><\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\n\"OLYMPUS
\n 
\n 
\nAmparo Arr\u00f3spide (Argentina) has published five poetry collections: Presencia en el Misterio, Mosaicos bajo la hiedra, Alucinaci\u00f3n en dos actos y algunos poemas, Pa\u00f1uelos de usar y tirar and En el o\u00eddo del viento<\/em>, as well as poems, short stories and articles on literature and films in anthologies and international magazines. She has translated authors such as Francisca Aguirre, Javier D\u00edaz Gil, Luis Fores and Jos\u00e9 Antonio Pamies into English, together with Robin Ouzman Hislop, who she worked with for a period as co-editor of Poetry Life and Times, a Webzine. Her translations into Spanish of Margaret Atwood (Morning in the Burned House<\/em>), James Stephens (Irish Fairy Tales<\/em>) and Mia Couto (Vinte e Zinco<\/em>) are in the course of being published, as well as her two poetry collections Hormigas en di\u00e1spora<\/em> and Jacuzzi<\/em>. She takes part in festivals, recently Transforming with Poetry (Leeds) and Centro de Poes\u00eda Jos\u00e9 Hierro (Getafe).<\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\n\"Robin<\/a>
\n 
\n 
\nRobin Ouzman Hislop is on line Editor at Motherbird.com, Artvilla.com & Poetry Life & Times, his recent publications include Voices without Borders Volume<\/em> 1 (USA), Cold Mountain Review <\/em>(Appalachian University, N.Carolina), The Poetic Bond Volumes<\/em>, Phoenix Rising from the Ashes<\/em> (an international anthology of sonnets) and The Honest Ulsterman<\/em>. His last publications are a volume of collected poems All the Babble of the Souk<\/em> & Key of Mist<\/em>, a translation from Spanish of the poems by the Spanish poetess Guadalupe Grande, both are published by Aquillrelle.com and available at all main online tributaries. For further information about these publications with reviews and comments see <\/strong>Author Robin.<\/a><\/strong>.
\n 
\n 
\nwww.facebook.com\/PoetryLifeTimes<\/a>
\nwww.facebook.com\/Artvilla.com<\/a>
\nrobin@artvilla.com<\/a>
\neditor@artvilla.com<\/a><\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\nKey of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arr\u00f3spide.Robin Ouzman Hislop<\/a><\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\n goodreads.com\/author\/show\/Robin Ouzman Hislop<\/a><\/strong>
\nhttp:\/\/www.aquillrelle.com\/authorrobin.htm<\/a><\/strong>
\nhttp:\/\/www.amazon.com. All the Babble of <\/a><\/strong>
\n 
\n <\/p>\n
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Key of Mist is an excerpt from the collected poems Key of Mist \u00a0 KEY of MIST I Behind the fence there\u00b4s a ditch and behind the ditch there\u00b4s a chest devastated by the journey. Who arrives here and how and after perhaps? Who arrives and says and names and leaves their hands stuck to … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":5376,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[50,717,476,720,366,401,52,388],"tags":[198,718,722,18,136,3,721,127],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5547"}],"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=5547"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5547\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6824,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5547\/revisions\/6824"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5376"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5547"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5547"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5547"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}