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Poetry

What Do You Expect, Heart?

By Olvido García Valdés
Translated from Spanish by Catherine Hammond
In this poem, Olvido García Valdés gives us an affecting internal monologue on emotion, pain, and loss.

 

What do you expect, heart? What do you want from me?
To be like Zeno of Elea, who bit off his own tongue
in one bite
and spit it out at the tyrant?

The good angel bad
angel speaks: the bearable
the unbearable.

They look as if the quiet
captured them (a sign of danger?
how light falls at a given moment?
through a work or an internal
distillery?) in a comb of rich honey.

About what is other, I accept everything 
that I do not unbearably dislike.
I accept it from the heart (who could accept
the unbearable in their heart —is that
what is unbearable—nearly inhuman?)

              What makes someone someone,
              unique, is impossible to communicate.

Some words talk
of attitude; tolerant attitude
for those who are able, the other
is tolerated. Who
are you?

The good angel bad
angel speaks: what
an ideology.

The history of women demonstrates that history
has been tolerant of women (the rung
where their lives evolved
was a rung below the rung
where the lives of the men
they depended upon evolved).  Protection
soothes if it does not kill—is that love?

The sun dilutes us releases us and retreats
like sugar candies dissolves us not sweet
at all, in the heated sea we come undone.

            A thing must be burnt in so that it stays in the memory:
            only something that continues to hurt stays in the memory.

Crows next to sheep
their interest rests in excrement
young poplars transparent and green.

The voice of loss speaks: how strange not to hear
the voice again.

Those birds in transit,
egrets, herons, and egrets
at the bottom of the pool, the lagoon,
seemed to be angels.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. 

Dogs prowl around
a fox, the world
opaque with thick
identifying odors.

Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few. 

What do you know about green, sentinel,
the green of winter, fear?
Pure firefly or sap
rise up almost without topsoil
hollow against the light.

From Lo solo del animal. © Olvido García Valdés. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2013 by Catherine Hammond. All rights reserved.

 

English Spanish (Original)

 

What do you expect, heart? What do you want from me?
To be like Zeno of Elea, who bit off his own tongue
in one bite
and spit it out at the tyrant?

The good angel bad
angel speaks: the bearable
the unbearable.

They look as if the quiet
captured them (a sign of danger?
how light falls at a given moment?
through a work or an internal
distillery?) in a comb of rich honey.

About what is other, I accept everything 
that I do not unbearably dislike.
I accept it from the heart (who could accept
the unbearable in their heart —is that
what is unbearable—nearly inhuman?)

              What makes someone someone,
              unique, is impossible to communicate.

Some words talk
of attitude; tolerant attitude
for those who are able, the other
is tolerated. Who
are you?

The good angel bad
angel speaks: what
an ideology.

The history of women demonstrates that history
has been tolerant of women (the rung
where their lives evolved
was a rung below the rung
where the lives of the men
they depended upon evolved).  Protection
soothes if it does not kill—is that love?

The sun dilutes us releases us and retreats
like sugar candies dissolves us not sweet
at all, in the heated sea we come undone.

            A thing must be burnt in so that it stays in the memory:
            only something that continues to hurt stays in the memory.

Crows next to sheep
their interest rests in excrement
young poplars transparent and green.

The voice of loss speaks: how strange not to hear
the voice again.

Those birds in transit,
egrets, herons, and egrets
at the bottom of the pool, the lagoon,
seemed to be angels.

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. 

Dogs prowl around
a fox, the world
opaque with thick
identifying odors.

Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few. 

What do you know about green, sentinel,
the green of winter, fear?
Pure firefly or sap
rise up almost without topsoil
hollow against the light.

From Lo solo del animal. © Olvido García Valdés. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2013 by Catherine Hammond. All rights reserved.

 

¿Qué esperas, corazón?

¿Qué esperas, corazón? ¿qué quieres de mí?
¿Y aquel, Zenón de Elea, que se cortó la lengua
de un mordisco
y se la escupió al tirano?

El ángel bueno el ángel
malo dice: lo soportable lo
insoportable.

Quedan como la quietud
las tomó (¿a una señal de peligro?
¿en un instante preciso de la caída
de la luz? ¿por un trabajo o alambique
interior?), en un panal de rica miel. 

Del otro acepto todo lo que no
insoportablemente me desagrada
lo acepto de corazón (¿quién puede aceptar
de corazón lo insoportable, casi
—eso que no se soporta— inhumano?). 

Lo que hay de único y que hace de alguien alguien
no puede ser comunicado. 

Algunas palabras hablan
de la actitud; tolerante es actitud
de quien puede, el otro
es tolerado. ¿Quién
eres tú? 

El ángel bueno el ángel
malo dice: qué
ideología.

La historia de las mujeres muestra que la historia
ha sido tolerante con las mujeres (el peldaño
donde se desarrollaba su vida estaba
un peldaño por debajo del peldaño
donde se desarrollaba la vida de los hombres
de quienes ellas dependían). La protección
arrulla si no mata —¿será el amor?—. 

El sol nos diluye nos destensa y repliega
como azucarillos nos disuelve nada
dulces, en el mar de calor nos deshacemos. 

Para que algo permanezca en la memoria tiene que
haberse grabado a fuego; sólo lo que no cesa de
doler permanece en la memoria. 

Los grajos junto a las ovejas es
su interés el excremento verdes
transparentes alamillos. 

La voz de la pérdida dice: qué raro no volver
a oír su voz. 

Le parecían ángeles
aquellos pájaros en tránsito
garzas, martinetes y garzas
al pie de la charca y la laguna. 

Mejores son dos que uno; porque tienen mejor paga de su trabajo. Porque si cayeren, el uno levantará a su compañero. También si dos durmieren juntos, se calentarán; mas ¿cómo se calentará uno solo? Y si alguno prevaleciere contra el uno, dos estarán contra él; y cordón de tres dobleces no presto se rompe. 

Perros merodean cerca
de un zorro, opaco
el mundo en su espesor
olores que identifican. 

No te des prisa con tu boca, ni tu corazón se apresure a proferir palabra delante de Dios; porque Dios
está en el cielo, y tú sobre la tierra: por tanto, sean pocas tus palabras. 

¿Qué sabes de lo verde, centinela,
verde de invierno, miedo?
Sin casi mantillo brota
pura luciérnaga o savia
hueco trasluz.

Con la incorporación de fragmentos de Décio Pignatari, Nietzsche y el Ecclesiastés.

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