Málaga

By JUAN ANTONIO GONZÁLEZ IGLESIAS

Translated by CURTIS BAUER

Todas y cada una de las cosas

del mundo tienen hoy exactitud

matinal. Esta dulce luz de Málaga

declara una vez más la equivalencia

entre la realidad y el paraíso.

Está el pequeño hotel en la subida

al monte donde se alza el santuario

que toma el nombre de una diosa antigua

para honrar a María. En el jardín

hay dos pequeñas mesas preparadas

con los dones más simples. Agua. Leche.

El vidrio, diferente del cristal.

Superior al cristal. La brisa en torno.

La jarra con el zumo de naranja.

El limón al alcance de la mano,

en el árbol. Los frutos más nutricios.

El cruasán recién hecho y el pan tierno.

Sal, aceite de oliva, mermelada.

La cortesía de los anfitriones.

Una sentencia antigua que comprendo

íntegramente ahora: si no hay

amenidad, la vida no es humana.

El valle entre los montes. La ciudad

que desde aquí parece silenciosa.

Promesa es la jornada que se inicia

bajo esta cobertura de palmeras.

 

***

 

for Maria Victoria Atencia

All and everything

in this world has clarity

today. This sweet Malaga light

declares, once again, the equivalence

between reality and paradise.

The little hotel on the climb up

to the mountain where stands the sanctuary

with the name of an old goddess

to honor Mary. In the garden

there are two little tables prepared

in the simplest manner. Water. Milk.

The glass, not quite like crystal.

Better than crystal. The breeze surrounding.

The pitcher of orange juice.

Lemons within arm’s reach

on the tree. The most nutritious fruit.

Fresh croissants and warm bread.

Salt, olive oil, marmalade.

The politeness of the hosts.

An old maxim that I understand

completely now: if there is no

pleasantry, life is not human.

The valley between the mountains. The city

seems silent from here.

Promise is the day that begins

beneath this cover of palm trees.

 

 

Curtis Bauer has published and has poems and translations forthcoming in Circumference, The American Poetry Review, 32 Poems, Fulcrum and Ninth Letter. He teaches Creative Writing and Translation at Texas Tech University.

Photo by Flickr Creative Commons user Toprural

Málaga

Related Posts

owl graffiti

Histories

SARAH DUNPHY-LELII
I once dated a bull rider, which is very interesting, I still find. He was at the time no longer a bull rider, he had rather been one in his youth, but this lingered, as you might expect.

Recife, Brazil

Translation: Poems by Lara Solórzano Damasceno

LARA SOLÓRZANO DAMASCENO
Nosotras, who for millennia have steered warships, / sailing through seas made invisible. / Nosotras, who walked barefoot through valleys of stinging nettle, had our name ripped from the book of history / our biography from the scientific treatises

Kentucky farmland

64-West & KY State Fair

D.S. WALDMAN
And how, / if we keep going, pushing ourselves farther / from ourselves, we’d see, eventually, the blankness / we were one day born into. / I forget what you / told me after—I think it had something to do / with loneliness.