Pizarnik’s Salvación

I have finished translating Garcia Lorca for now. He is always a joy, but there are over a dozen collected works of his poetry in English and even as I labored with my beloved English-Spanish Dictionary, I wondered: does the world really need yet another translation of Federico? So I wandered out yesterday and went to the Michigan State University library and discovered Alejandra Pizarnik, an Argentine poet, who needs to be read. Wikipedia has this to say about her:

[She was] born to Russian Jewish immigrant parents on April 29, 1936, in Buenos Aires, Argentina. A year after entering the department of Philosophy and Letters at the Universidad de Buenos Aires, Pizarnik published her first book of poetry, La tierra más ajena (1955) … From 1960 to 1964 [she] lived in Paris … Pizarnik followed her debut work with two more volumes of poems, La última inocencia (1956) and Las adventuras perdidas (1958) … She died in Buenos Aires on September 25, 1972 of a self-induced overdose of seconal.

It is from La última inocencia/ "The Last Innocence" (1956) that I have begun working from. Looking over the Internet I discovered that while several poets speak highly of her and the Princeton University Library has a Special Collection of her letters, there is very little of her opus in circulation. Strange, considering the slender, psychological, surrealistic nature of her verse.

Of course, I am an amateur translator. I do not hold that my translations are the end-all or be-all of Pizarnik's work. What I can hope for, however, is that one day someone who is a master poeta del español will read this and say: "these poems need to be released from their cages." Until then, I welcome you along for the ride.

Salvación
Alejandra Pizarnik
Salvation
translated by ZJC

Se fuga la isla.
Y la muchacha vuelve a escalar el viento
y a descubrir la muerte del pájaro profeta.
Ahora
es el fuego sometido.
Ahora
es la carne
la hoja
la piedra
perdidos en la fuente del tormento
como el navegante en el horror de la civilización
que purifica la caída de la noche.
Ahora
la muchacha halla la máscara del infinito
y rompe el muro de la poesía.

Flight from the island.
And the girl returns to scale the wind
and to discover the death of the bird prophet.
Now
here is the submissive fire.
Now
the meat
of the lost leaf
the stone
that is the source of torment
like the navigator, in horror of civilization,
purifying the night's dusk.
Now
the girl finds the infinite mask
and breaks the wall of poetry.

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