Saturday, December 26, 2009

Sunday, November 1, 2009

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Monday, June 8, 2009

Jose Marti trans. by Babelfish

Yo soy un hombre sincero
De donde crece la palma,
Y antes de morirme quiero
Echar mis versos del alma.

I am a sincere man
Of where the palm grows,
and before dying
I want to me To throw my verses of the soul.

Yo vengo de todas partes,
Y hacia todas partes voy:
Arte soy entre las artes,
En los montes, monte soy.

I come from all parts,
and towards all parts I go:
Art I am between the arts,
In mounts, mounts I am.

Yo sé los nombres extraños
De las yerbas y las flores,
Y de mortales engaños,
Y de sublimes dolores.

I know the strange names
Of the grass and the flowers,
and of mortal deceits,
and sublime pains.


Yo he visto en la noche oscura
Llover sobre mi cabeza
Los rayos de lumbre pura
De la divina belleza.

I have at night seen dark
Rain on my head
rays of pure fire
Of the divine beauty.

Alas nacer vi en los hombros
De las mujeres hermosas:
Y salir de los escombros,
Volando las mariposas.

Wings to be born I saw
in shoulders Of beautiful women:
And to leave rubbish,
Flying the butterflies.

He visto vivir a un hombre
Con el puñal al costado,
Sin decir jamás el nombre
De aquella que lo ha matado.

I have seen live to a man
With the dagger to flank,
Without never saying the name
Of that one has killed that it.

Rápida, como un reflejo,
Dos veces vi el alma, dos:
Cuando murió el pobre viejo,
Cuando ella me dijo adiós.

Fast, like a reflection,
Twice I saw soul, two:
When the old poor man died,
When she said goodbye to me.

Temblé una vez en la reja,
A la entrada de la viña,
Cuando la bárbara abeja
Picó en la frente a mi niña.

I shook once in the grate,
To the entrance of vine,
When the Barbarian bee
Itched in the forehead young.

Gocé una vez, de tal suerte
Que gocé cual nunca: cuando La sentencia de mi muerte
Leyó el alcalde llorando.

I enjoyed once, of such luck,
That I enjoyed what never:
when the sentence of my death
Read the mayor crying.

Oigo un suspiro, a través
De las tierras y la mar,
Y no es un suspiro, es
Que mi hijo va a despertar.

I hear a sigh,
through earth and sea,
and is not a sigh, is
That my son goes a to wake up.


Si dicen que del joyero
Tome la joya mejor,
Tomo a un amigo sincero
Y pongo a un lado el amor.

If they say that from the jeweler
It takes the best jewel,
Volume to a sincere friend and
I put to a side the love.

Yo he visto al águila herida
Volar al azul sereno,
Y morir en su guarida
La vibora del veneno.

I have seen the wounded eagle
Fly to the blue one night watchman,
and to die in its guarida viper of poison.

Jose Marti, "Verse Sencellios" in first chapter, a few:
=====

Si dicen que del joyero
Tome la joya mejor,
Tomo a un amigo sincero
Y pongo a un lado el amor.

If they say that from the jeweler
It takes the best jewel,
All to a sincere friend and
I put to a side the love.


=====
Yo sé bien que cuando el mundo
Cede, lívido, al descanso,
Sobre el silencio profundo
Murmura el arroyo manso.

I know that when the world
Yields, well livid, to rest,
On deep silence
Murmurs tame stream.






Yo sé bien que cuando el mundo
Cede, lívido, al descanso,
Sobre el silencio profundo
Murmura el arroyo manso.

I know that when the world
Yields, well livid, to rest,
On deep silence
Murmurs tame stream.

Yo he puesto la mano osada,
De horror y júbilo yerta,
Sobre la estrella apagada
Que cayó frente a mi puerta.

I have put the hand dared,
Of horror and joy yerta,
On the dull star
That fell in front of my door.

Oculto en mi pecho bravo
La pena que me lo hiere:
El hijo de un pueblo esclavo
Vive por él, calla y muere.

Hidden in my brave chest
the pain that me it hurts:

Friday, February 6, 2009

Sunday, January 11, 2009

BUSHWICK BOHEMIA

BUSHWICK BOHEMIA
by Emanuel Xavier

Para mi gente…
chequealo…

Bushwick on my mind
quinceañeras at the bodega
with their pretty pink dresses
luscious dark eyes
longing to cut the Valencia cakes
while Mr. Softee lingers
over coco helados y piragüeros
fighting for the last dollar
Across the street,
santeros dressed in white
with their collares
buying chickens at the poultry shop
for their next tambor
to be held this Sunday
in someone else’s crowded basement
Maggie cruisin’ back and forth
back and forth
Keeping the dealers in check
As the sounds of beepers
Rottweiler fights
Freestyle
& chanting from the Pentecostal church
fill the air with the smells
of pernil, alcapurrias y empanadas
from La Claribel -
the best cuchifrito in town
Up on the roof,
Miguelito giving blow jobs
to grey-haired old men
so that he can get a fade
at Paul’s boutique
or buy mami that fake painting
she wanted for $5.99
down Knickerbocker Avenue
Malitza walking by
pregnant with her second baby
only 18 & already night manager at McDonald’s
she wasn’t gonna end up consumed
in the empty little crack bags
she counted
every morning
on her way to Grover Cleveland High School
Hector, her boyfriend,
home from playing handball all day
lying shirtless on the couch blunted out of his mind
staring at the roach on the ceiling
one single roach in a vast desert
or maybe an alien exploring a new world
the ceiling fan -
his spaceship
Doña Carmen sneezing so loud
The walls so thin
Hector says ‘Salud
& she hears him from the second floor
over Walter Mercado
on Canal 41
Turning off the kitchen lights
so that the roaches can scurry into the darkness -
their freedom
like the children playing out all night
Waiting for the L train
Mira, Georgie…
gimmie a quarter!’
‘Fine…
but cha betta pay me back tomorrow!’
Life in Bushwick,
ain’t it a trip!
One day we’ll all be buried
beneath the ground we spit on
Emanuel Xavier’s work can be purchased online on Amazon.com. For more information, visit emanuelxavier.com, his MySpace page, or look for him on Facebook.