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Out of the vine
Out of the vine you turned me into
will grow many bunches of white grapes
they will be hard, with an acidic dry juice
but with sweet and frosted seeds.
On the stones that wall up my windows
will grow lichen, moss, brown grass
a springtime of words will burst forth
trees with poems in their branches.
On the nooses hanging from my window ledge
will climb emerald bougainvillea
ivy and sunrises, the water from springs
will come to me, full of grace.
Out of the castigation and pain of your contempt
I will drag my humiliated poems
and use them to guide me in my blindness
until I reach the air I need.
Of the corpse that I was you’ll see nothing
nor will you know that I left and came back
that I turned my back on life
and now I face you, resuscitated.
English translation by Paul Archer of 'Del sarmiento' by Conchi da Silva.
Del sarmiento
Del sarmiento en que tú me convertiste
brotarán cien racimos de uvas blancas
serán duras, de mosto ácido y seco
más de semillas dulces y escarchadas.
En las piedras que tapian mis ventanas
nacerá liquen, musgo, hierba parda
surgirán primaveras de palabras
árboles con poemas en sus ramas.
Por las sogas que cuelgan de mi alféizar
treparán buganvillas esmeralda
hiedras y amaneceres, manantiales
acudirán a mi, plenos de gracia.
Del castigo y dolor de tu desprecio
arrancaré mis rimas humilladas
las usaré de guía en mi ceguera
hasta abrazar el aire que me falta.
Del cadáver que fui no verás nada
ni sabrás que me he ido ni que he vuelto
que caminé de espaldas a la vida
y que me enfrento a ti, resucitada.
 Listen to Conchi da Silva reading her poem 'Del sarmiento'.
For more translations of poems by Conchi da Silva, go to Translations. |
