by Pablo Neruda
THE
CAPTAIN’S
VERSES
Los versos del
Capitán
PABLO NERUDA
THE
CAPTAIN’S
VERSES
Los versos del
Capitán
Bilingual
Translated by DONALD D. WALSH
A NEW DIRECTIONS BOOK
INTRODUCTION (1972)
Pablo Neruda, the poet and activist who is now Chilean ambassador to France, is often held to be the greatest poet of this century writing in any language. He is a fierily political poet, the author of España en el corazón (“Spain in Our Hearts,” 1937), one of the noblest expressions of the agony of the Spanish Republic. He is also a fiery poet of love: Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada (“Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair,” 1924), Cien sonetos de amor (“A Hundred Love Sonnets,” 1959).
Los versos del Capitán is another of Neruda’s volumes of love poetry. In it he writes simply, directly, forcefully, earthily of his love for and his lover’s quarrels with Matilde Urrutia, whom he married in 1955. Perhaps because of the autobiographical nature of the poems, Neruda published them anonymously in 1952. Later, in an “Explanation” prefacing a 1963 edition that acknowledged the work as his own, he wrote (and I translate): “There has been much discussion about the anonymity of this book. What I debated with myself, meanwhile, was whether or not I should remove it from its intimate origin: to reveal its source was to strip bare the intimacy of its birth. And it did not seem to me that such an action would be loyal to the ecstasies of love and fury, to the disconsolate and ardent climate that gave birth to it.
“In some ways I think that all books should be anonymous. But between removing my name from all my books and restoring it to the most mysterious one, I yielded, finally, though with no great pleasure.
“Why did I preserve its mystery so long? For no reason and for all reasons, for this and for that, for improper joys, for alien sufferings. When Paolo Rjcci, luminous companion, printed it for the first time in Naples in 1952, we thought that the few copies that he prepared with superb care would disappear and leave no traces in the southern sands.
“It didn’t turn out that way. And the life that demanded its secret explosion now imposes it on me as the presence of lasting love.
“And so I present this book with no further explanation, as if it were mine and not mine: it is enough that it should be able to go through the world on its own and grow by itself. Now that I recognize it I hope that its furious blood will recognize me, too.”
Since Neruda expresses his poetic ideas very simply and directly, it is possible to translate him quite literally with no loss of validity, as will be seen by any reader with a knowledge of the two languages.
Four of these translations (“In You the Earth,” “The Queen,” “The Potter,” “Night on the Island”) have been published in The Atlantic Monthly and the translator hereby gratefully acknowledges permission to reprint them.
Madison, Connecticut/November, 1972 D.D.W.
NOTE: Pablo Neruda died in a hospital in Santiago, Chile on September 23, 1973.
CONTENTS
Introduction
EL AMOR / LOVE
En ti la tierra / In You the Earth
La reina / The Queen
El alfarero / The Potter
8 de septiembre / September 8th
Tus pies / Your Feet
Tus manos / Your Hands
Tu risa / Your Laughter
El inconstante / The Fickle One
La noche en la isla / Night on the Island
El viento en la isla / Wind on the Island
La infinita / The Infinite One
Bella / Lovely One
La rama robada / The Stolen Branch
El hijo / The Son
La tierra / The Earth
Ausencia / Absence
EL DESEO / DESIRE
El tigre / The Tiger
El cóndor / The Condor
El insecto / The Insect
LAS FURIAS / THE FURIES
El amor / Love
Siempre / Always
El desvío / The Slip
La pregunta / The Question
La pródiga / The Waster
El daño / The Hurt
El pozo / The Well
El sueño / The Dream
Si tú me olvidas / If You Forget Me
El olvido / Oblivion
Las muchachas / Girls
Tú venías / You Would Come
LAS VIDAS / LIVES
El monte y el río / The Mountain and the River
La pobreza / Poverty
Las vidas / Lives
La bandera / The Flag
El amor del soldado / The Soldier’s Love
No sólo el fuego / Not Only the Fire
La muerta / The Dead Woman
Pequeña América / Little America
ODA Y GERMINACIONES / ODE AND BURGEONINGS
EPITALAMIO / EPITHALAMIUM
LA CARTA EN EL CAMINO / LETTER ON THE ROAD
THE CAPTAIN’S VERSES
(Los versos del Capitán)
EL AMOR
EN TILA TIERRA
Pequeña
rosa,
rosa pequeña,
a veces,
diminuta y desnuda,
parece
que en una mano mía
cabes,
que así voy a cerrarte
y llevarte a mi boca,
pero
de pronto
mis pies tocan tus pies y mi boca tus labios:
has crecido,
suben tus hombros como dos colinas,
tus pechos se pasean por mi pecho,
mi brazo alcanza apenas a rodear la delgada
línea de luna nueva que tiene tu cintura:
en el amor como agua de mar te has desatado:
mido apenas los ojos más extensos del cielo
y me inclino a tu boca para besar la tierra.
LOVE
IN YOU THE EARTH
Little
rose,
roselet,
at times,
tiny and naked,
it seems
as though you would fit
in one of my hands,
as though I’ll clasp you like this
and carry you to my mouth,
but
suddenly
my feet touch your feet and my mouth your lips:
you have grown,
your shoulders rise like two hills,
your breasts wander over my breast,
my arm scarcely manages to encircle the thin
new-moon line of your waist:
in love you have loosened yourself like sea water:
I can scarcely measure the sky’s most spacious eyes
and I lean down to your mouth to kiss the earth.
LA REINA
Yo te he nombrado reina.
Hay más altas que tú, más altas.
Hay mas puras que tú, más puras.
Hay más bellas que tú, hay más bellas.
Pero tú eres la reina.
Cuando vas por las calles
nadie te reconoce.
Nadie ve tu corona de cristal, nadie mira
la alfombra de oro rojo
que pisas cuando pasas,
la alfombra que no existe.
Y cuando asomas
suenan todos los ríos
en mi cuerpo, sacuden
el cielo las campanas,
y un himno llena el mundo.
Sólo tú y yo,
sólo tú y yo, amor mío,
lo escuchamos.
THE QUEEN
I have named you queen.
There are taller ones than you, taller.
There are purer ones than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.
When you go through the streets
no one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
at the carpet of red gold
that you tread as you pass,
the nonexistent carpet.
And when you appear
all the rivers sound
in my body, bells
shake the sky,
and a hymn fills the world.
Only you and I,
only you and I, my love,
listen to it.
EL ALFARERO
Todo tu cuerpo tiene
copa o dulzura destinada a mí.
Cuando subo la mano
encuentro en cada sitio una paloma
que me buscaba, como
si te hubieran, amor, hecho de arcilla
para mis propias manos de alfarero.
Tus rodillas, tus senos,
tu cintura
faltan en mí como en el hueco
de una tierra sedienta
de la que desprendieron
una forma,
y juntos
somos completos como un solo río,
como una sola arena.
THE POTTER
Your whole body has
a fullness or a gentleness destined for me.
When I move my hand up
I find in each place a dove
that was seeking me, as
if they had, love, made you of clay
for my own potter’s hands.
Your knees, your breasts,
your waist
are missing parts of me like the hollow
of a thirsty earth
from which they broke off
a form,
and together
we are complete like a single river,
like a single grain of sand.
8 DE SEPTIEMBRE
Hoy, este día fue una copa plena,
hoy, este día fue la inmensa ola,
hoy, fue toda la tierra.
Hoy el mar tempestuoso
nos levantó en un beso
tan alto que temblamos
a la luz de un relámpago
y, atados, descendimos
a sumergirnos sin desenlazarnos.
Hoy nuestros cuerpos se hicieron extensos,
crecieron hasta el límite del mundo
y rodaron fundiéndose
en una sola gota
de cera o meteoro.
Entre tú y yo se abrió una nueva puerta
y alguien, sin rostro aún,
allí nos esperaba.
SEPTEMBER 8TH
Today, this day was a brimming cup,
today, this day was the immense wave,
today, it was all the earth.
Today the stormy sea
lifted us in a kiss
so high that we trembled
in a lightningflash
and, tied, we went down
to sink without untwining.
Today our bodies became vast,
they grew to the edge of the world
and rolled melting
into a single drop
of wax or meteor.
Between you and me a new door opened
and someone, still faceless,
was waiting for us there.
TUS PIES
Cuando no puedo mirar tu cara
miro tus pies.
Tus pies de hueso arqueado,
tus pequeños pies duros.
Yo sé que te sostienen,
y que tu dulce peso
sobre ellos se levanta.
Tu cintura y tus pechos,
la duplicada púrpura
de tus pezones,
la caja de tus ojos
que recién han volado,
tu ancha boca de fruta,
tu cabellera roja,
pequeña torre mía.
Pero no amo tus pies
sino porque anduvieron
sobre la tierra y sobre
el viento y sobre el agua,
hasta que me encontraron.
YOUR FEET
When I can not look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your gentle weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
TUS MANOS
Cuando tus manos salen,
amor, hacia las mías,
qué me traen volando?
Por qué se detuvieron
en mi boca, de pronto,
por qué las reconozco
como si entonces, antes,
las hubiera tocado,
como si antes de ser
hubieran recorrido
mi frente, mi cintura?
Su suavidad venía
volando sobre el tiempo,
sobre el mar, sobre el humo,
sobre la primavera,
y cuando tú pusiste
tus manos en mi pecho,
reconocí esas alas
de paloma dorada,
reconocí esa greda
y ese color de trigo.
Los años de mi vida
yo caminé buscándolas.
Subí las escaleras,
crucé los arrecifes,
me llevaron los trenes,
las aguas me trajeron,
y en la piel de las uvas
me pareció tocarte.
La madera de pronto
me trajo tu contacto,
la almendra me anunciaba
tu suavidad secreta,
hasta que se cerraron
tus manos en mi pecho
y allí como dos alas
terminaron su viaje.
YOUR HANDS
When your hands go out,
love, toward mine,
what do they bring me flying?
Why did they stop
at my mouth, suddenly,
why do I recognize them
as if then, before,
I had touched them,
as if before they existed
they had passed over
my forehead, my waist?
Their softness came
flying over time,
over the sea, over the smoke,
over the spring,
and when you placed
your hands on my chest,
I recognized those golden
dove wings,
I recognized that clay
and that color of wheat.
All the years of my life
I walked around looking for them.
I went up the stairs,
I crossed the roads,
trains carried me,
waters brought me,
and in the skin of the grapes
I thought I touched you.
The wood suddenly
brought me your touch,
the almond announced to me
your secret softness,
until your hands
closed on my chest
and there like two wings
they ended their journey.
TU RISA
Quítame el pan, si quieres,
quítame el aire, pero
no me quites tu risa.
No me quites la rosa
,
la lanza que desgranas,
el agua que de pronto
estalla en tu alegría,
la repentina ola
de plata que te nace.
Mi lucha es dura y vuelvo
con los ojos cansados
a veces de haber visto
la tierra que no cambia,
pero al entrar tu risa
sube al cielo buscándome
y abre para mí todas
las puertas de la vida.
Amor mío, en la hora
más oscura desgrana
tu risa, y si de pronto
ves que mi sangre mancha
las piedras de la calle,
ríe, porque tu risa
será para mis manos
como una espada fresca.
Junto al mar en otoño,
tu risa debe alzar
su cascada de espuma,
y en primavera, amor,
quiero tu risa como
la flor que yo esperaba,
la flor azul, la rosa
de mi patria sonora.
Ríete de la noche,
del día, de la luna,
ríete de las calles
torcidas de la isla,
ríete de este torpe
muchacho que te quiere,
pero cuando yo abro
los ojos y los cierro,
cuando mis pasos van,
cuando vuelven mis pasos,
niégame el pan, el aire,
la luz, la primavera,
pero tu risa nunca
porque me moriría.
YOUR LAUGHTER
Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.