Monday, March 13, 2017

Julia Conejo Alonso


[Image source:]

The Leon poet Julia Conejo Alonso maintains a poetry blog called Telas mal cortadas, which means something like "badly cut cloths".

Here's a poem I found there, from her own collection Peces transparentes :

DE TUS SUEÑOS   (Of your dreams)

Ya no soy ese sueño
de tus tarde heridas de misal
y sotana.

    I'm not that dream any more
    of your afternoon wounds of missal
    and cassock.

La ternura a granel que tantas veces
te enganchaba a la vida.

    The tenderness on tap that so many times
    connected you with life.

Ya no soy la que enciende las estrellas
y las cuelga del techo
cuando todos discuten.

    I'm not the one that lights the stars anymore
    and hangs them from the ceiling
    while everyone is arguing.

La que puede bailar con el pie escayolado.

    The one that can dance with a foot in plaster.

Me soñabas así,
ligera y quebradiza,
para que siempre
la luz y la penumbra
calaran en mi cuerpo.

    You dreamed me thus,
    featherlight and fragile,
    so that always
    the light and the darkness
    would penetrate my body.

Ahora estoy en el sitio donde tú ya estuviste.
El lugar donde aguardan
los que han ido perdiendo poco a poco
sus piezas
y buscan un recambio
para seguir nadando por la orilla del viento,

     Now I'm in the place where you were.
     The spot where those wait
    who have been losing little by little
    their components
    and are looking for a spare
    to carry on swimming at the edge of the wind,

sorteando las rocas
en las que se resbalan todavía,
a pesar de la costra que les cubre.

    dodging the rocks
    on which they slip yet,
    in spite of the crust that covers them.

( "a granel" normally describes produce such as vegetables or wines sold unpackaged and paid by weight or volume. It can also mean in bulk quantities, lavish quantities, by the ton...)


EN EL METRO / In the metro

Es una conversación banal
es más
da la impresión de que hablan por hablar

 y eso es lo que te produce un escalofrío
pensar en el triste destino de esas palabras
cuyo único fin es
tapar el silencio.

  It's a banal conversation
  it's more
  it gives the impression of talk for talk's sake

  and that's what gives you a chill
  to think of the sad destiny of those words
  whose only purpose is
  to conceal the silence.


My knowledge of contemporary Spanish poetry is basically nil, and my Spanish is pretty poor. Both of these translations were adapted from Google Translate and probably fail to grasp the point in places.


[Image source:]

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