Friday, April 20, 2012

Shadows of the Andes Ollantayambo and Cesar Vallejo Poems in English and Spanish

1) Shadows of the Andes [or: Song to the Andes

I shall blend-in, into the

Mountains
Into the faintest thin

Shadows

of the mountains!
Like the moss on moistened

Stone

Like a leaf blown far from

Home

(freshly fallen)!

I shall blend-in, clinging

To the mountains
Into its faintest thin

Shadows

Note: when I arrived back home from Peru, my 7th trip in five years [April, 2005, I had spend about 30-days this time on the trip. I visited the Mantaro Valley, Huancayo, and drove through the Andes. Upon my arrival home, I told my wife, perhaps a week or two thereafter, We are going to go there and live. Thus, we sold everything, and our home in Minnesota, and purchased a condo in the Andes, and now it is all history.

Sombras de los Andes

Yo armonizar, dentro de las
Montaas-
Dentro de las sombras finas
Ms dbiles
De las montaas!

Como el musgo de las piedras
Humedecidas

Como una hoja echada a volar
Lejos de casa

(Recin cada)

Yo armonizar, adhirindome
A las montaas-
Dentro de sus sombras
Finas ms dbiles

2) Battle of Ollantayambo

In Ollantayambo
Thousands of warriors crowed the terraces,
To repel Herrando Pizarros attack;
Among them, Manco Inca appeared
On horseback, with a lance in his hand
Horrifying, Pizarros unsuccessful advance.

6/30/05 #745

In Spanish

Batalla de Ollantaytambo

En Ollantaytambo-
Miles de soldados llenaban las terrazas,
Para rechazar el ataque de Pizarro-;
Entre ellos, apareci Manco Inca
Montado en su caballo, con una lanza en su mano
Horrorizando, el fracasado avance de Pizarro.

6/30/05 #745

3) Cesar Vallejos:
Feasible of Black Roses

Bow down your head ol poet
To face Gods grace ahead
There are no more trenches

To dig today
In the forest of your head,

S o: Bow down, bow down,

Ol barbaric poet!
Death rides the horse ahead
I hear the crackling of a whip
See the crazed eyes of death.

He summons you to his den
The devil and his wind,

So: Bow down, bow down
Your blood stained brows
He will take you to the edge.

Closer, closer, I see you now
Eh! a moving satanic cloud
I see a festival of black-roses,
I hear clamor in the crowd.

Bow down, bow down, Ol poet
I hear your applause!

#666 [5/15/2005 In English only

Dennis Siluk http://dennissiluk.tripod.com


Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
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