MCLC: poem identifications (3,4)

[Denton, Kirk]

MCLC LIST
From: Sean Valentine Golden <Sean.Golden at uab.cat>
Subject: poem identifications (3)
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逝去的恋歌
Author: César Vallejo (Chile, in Spanish)

This version in Chinese seems to be based in part (the beginning) on César
Vallejo's poem "Idilio Muerto" [Dead Idyll] from Los heraldos negros (The
black heralds) although it does not seem to include all of the verses of
Vallejo's poem.

Qué estará haciendo esta hora mi andina y dulce Rita de junco y capulí;
ahora que me asfixia Bizancio, y que dormita
la sangre, como flojo cognac, dentro de mí.

Dónde estarán sus manos que en actitud contrita
planchaban en las tardes blancuras por venir;
ahora, en esta lluvia que me quita
las ganas de vivir.

Qué será de su falda de franela; de sus
afanes; de su andar;
de su sabor a cañas de mayo del lugar.

Ha de estarse a la puerta mirando algún celaje,
y al fin dirá temblando: «Qué frío hay... Jesús!»
y llorará en las tejas un pájaro salvaje.

What would she be doing now, my sweet Andean Rita
of rush and tawny berry;
now when Byzantium asphyxiates me, and my blood
dozes, like thin cognac, inside of me.

Where would her hands, that showing contrition
ironed in the afternoon whitenesses yet to come,
be now, in this rain that deprives me of
my desire to live.

What has become of her flannel skirt; of her
toil, of her walk;
of her taste of homemade May rum.

She must be at the door watching some cloudscape,
and at length she’ll say, trembling: “Jesus…it’s so cold!”
And on the roof tiles a wild bird will cry.

–Trans. Eshleman (2007).
https://profacero.wordpress.com/2007/09/12/661/

Sean Golden

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From: Øystein Johan Kleiven <o.j.kleiven at ub.uio.no>
Subject: poem identifications (4)

Dear Minlei,

The original version of the poem 结霜的窗 by Rolf Jacobsen is called 'Rim på
ruten', and was first published in the collection Fjerntog (1951).

Rim på ruten

Stjernevrimlen!
Se, det rimer på ruten. Det er stjernene,
knitrende som frosset dugg mot jordens rute.
La oss ånde på dem,
rekke vårt hjertes tegn,
vår unge varme mot de sovende krystaller,
så blir de lykketårer, smilende
strømmer de bort,
og lar oss se glimt av stormblå himmel.

Best wishes,

Øystein Johan Kleiven,
Oslo University Library