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Poemes de Josefa Contijoch. Traducció a l’anglès: Anna Crowe. Advice You can choose the road to the right the road to the left It’s all the same: or else the middle road. you will come to a place you will not like. You will always be wrong. (from Wings undamaged , 1996). Consell
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Poemes de Josefa Contijoch Traducció a l’anglès: Anna Crowe
Advice You can choose the road to the right the road to the left It’s all the same: or else the middle road. you will come to a place you will not like. You will always be wrong. (from Wings undamaged, 1996) Consell Pots agafar el camí de la dreta el camí de l'esquerre És igual: o bé el camí del mig. arribaràs a un lloc que no t'agradarà. T'equivocaràs sempre. (Ales intactes, 1996)
L’amor, amor Amor, amor, amor, amor volíem i amor ens vàrem dar. Fruita de l'arbre, aigua aclarida, i l'hora clara i l'hora ombria. Amor, amor, amor, encès de dia i encès de nit. Amor volíem i amor va ser, brillant com el migdia. Més enllà de nosaltres, amor, l'amor corria i corrien els dies més enllà de nosaltres, estirant-nos la brida. Perquè sabíem que sense amor no hi ha vida, amor ens vàrem dar, herba florida, i el sol de posta i el sol d'eixida. I el misteri corria més enllà de nosaltres, amor, estirant-nos la brida. (Ales intactes, 1996)
Love, love Love, love, love, love we wanted and love we is what we gave. Fruit of the tree, clear running water, the hour in sun and the hour in shade. Love, love, love, kindled by day and kindled by night. Love we wanted and love it was, bright shining like noonday Far beyond us, love, love was running and the days were running far beyond us, Because we knew that without love there is no life love is what we gave each other grass in flower and the sun in its setting and the sun in its leaving. And the mystery running far beyond us, love tugging our reins. (Wings unbroken, 1996)
No plorava per tu ni plorava per mi plorava pel ball que ens havíem promés amb aquella il.lusió i que no vam ballar i que no vam ballar. (Les lentes il·lusions, 2001) I wasn’t weeping for you I wasn’t weeping for myself I was weeping for the dance we had promised ourselves with such fond hopes and which we never danced and which we never danced. (Slow fond hopes, 2001)
Amor canta'm una cançó que em faci la mort tolerable canta'm una cançó d'amor. (Les lentes il·lusions, 2001) Love sing me a song that makes death bearable to me sing me a love-song. (Slow fond hopes, 2001)
As time goes by Parmi les êtres humains, on ne reconnaît pleinement l'existence que de ceux qu'on aime (Simone Weil) Tota passió hipnòtica passa conversa casual entre desconeguts que passen crits de nàufrags passavolants per l'autopista m'agrada veure passar el mar des de la finestreta estant penses boies i flotadors passen ones i tot passant penses que estrany sempre acabo plorant per una cosa o altra penses no passa res per dur que sigui de passar les coses passen passen de pressa els anys i allò ni clar ni fosc que anomenem la vida mai no hauries imaginat que la pèrdua irreparable també passa buides i esperes que passi alguna cosa que ompli i es quedi però res no es queda i tot cansa per això sempre acabes esperant que passi alguna cosa mentre preguntes perquè el cor demana tant el buit tens de l'espera un buit folrat de capes de cendra de capes de vidre de capes de paper guardar de què serveix guardar preguntes esperes com si no hagués passat res i tot hagués de passar encara t'agraden els inicis no els finals treus la cadira i seus passen ramats de paraules per la carena pel tall de la ganiveta seguint el curs errant i laberíntic i mentre passen els dies perdurables penses és estrany que el cor pugui anhelar l'afecte d'ombres fugaces que passen. (Les lentes il·lusions, 2001)
As time goes by Parmi les êtres humains, on ne reconnaît pleinement l’existence que de ceux qu’on aime (Simone Weil) All mesmerising passion passes casual chat among passing strangers cries of the shipwrecked passers-by on the motorway I like to see the sea go by from the tiny porthole while you’re thinking buoys and markers waves go past and while they’re passing you think how strange I always end up weeping for something or other you think that nothing’s happening however hard it is for things to happen things happen and pass the years pass swiftly by and the thing neither light nor dark that we call life you would never have thought that irreparable loss would pass as well you’re empty and waiting for something to happen to fill right up and stay but nothing stays and everything wearies which is why you end up always waiting for something to happen while you wonder why the heart demands so much you have the emptiness of waiting an emptiness covered in layers of ash in layers of glass in layers of paper to store up to see what use it may be to store up questions you wait as though nothing had happened and everything’s still to happen you like beginnings not endings you pull up a chair and sit down shoals of words pass under the keel under the slash of the kitchen-knife following their roving and labyrinthine course and while the unending days go by you think how strange that the heart should feel this yearning for the affection of fleeting shadows that go by. (Slow fond hopes, 2001)
The loneliness of the stockbroker lasts a lifetime the loneliness of the walker shines the lonely heart out hunting aims and fires lend me your hand in the deadly forest I always got lost there the signs of the tribe pretended to guide and were utterly useless for I was following loneliness and its darkness scab and wound the Little Bear from on high looks down we’re walking into open jaws saliva is all we have to drink life’s no bed of roses. (from Drifted Snow, unpublished) La solitud del corredor de fons dura tota la vida la solitud del caminant brilla el cor caçador solitari afina i tira dóna'm la mà a la selva fatal sempre em perdia els signes de la tribu feien de guia i de res no servia perquè seguia solitud negra crosta i ferida l'óssa menor de dalt s'ho mira anem endins la boca la saliva cal abeurar-se dura és la vida. (Neu de congesta, inèdit)
Àngel caigut en la nit del jardí de les roses en el llot més pudent de la nit del jardí de les roses en la misèria de la nit del jardí de les roses en el jardí on és amor o és tedi en l'oblit on tot és sempre amor com una daga al coll com un forçat crit ronc d'auxili en la zona més fosca de la nit del jardí de les roses. (Neu de congesta, inèdit) Fallen angel in the night of the rose-garden in the foulest mud of the night of the rose-garden in the wretchedness of the night of the rose-garden in the garden where love is or else boredom in the oblivion where everything is always love like a dagger held to the neck like a hoarse strained cry for help in the darkest part of the night of the rose-garden. (from Drifted Snow, unpublished)
Stones down headlong from the cliff you hurl face-down you eat the dust you spit out judgements the levellings of the valley the dreams turned to dust into the dust you hurl judgements new ways of breathing of being wrong you measure the blow to something you know nothing of precisely that: changes face-down you dream new dreams judgements a river snaking along a sea of rocks or light judgements the way things flow endlessly with no respite to grief. (Drifted snow, unpublished) Pedres davall del cingle llences bocaterrosa menges pols escups albires els replans de la vall els somnis fets pols a la pols llences albires noves formes de respirar d'equivocar-se acompasses el buf a alguna cosa que no saps justament això: canvis bocaterrosa somies somnis nous albires un riu que serpenteja un mar de rocs o llum albires com s'escolen les coses sens fi sens treva a doll. (Neu de congesta, inèdit)
Arbres alts àlbers les males herbes les herbes altes que el vent les dalli la commoció al sot que es diu sot de l'infern el foc ho cremi t'estiraràs sobre el rostoll a contemplar el més enllà blau d'ultramar i un bosc de núvols acarminats repararàs que hi ha cel alt i calma alta esfilagarces de remembrança per sobre teu divagaran altes mudances cauen del cel plomalls d'espasme s'haurà fet hora de nedar al codolar com si ningú volgués mai més saber de tu enlloc els ulls que han de mirar-te hi ha la paraula al roquissar flamíger i alt de paret alta. (Neu de congesta, inèdit)
fraying shreds of memory will zig-zag above you lofty changes fall from the sky feathered twitchings it will be the moment to swim to the stony beach as though no one wished to know anything more about you nowhere those eyes which should look at you there is the word of the high rocky place alive with flames the word of the high wall. (Drifted snow, unpublished) Tall trees poplars the weeds the tall-grown weeds let the wind mow them down the roaring in the hollow that’s called the hollow of hell let the fire burn it you’ll stretch yourself out on the stubble to gaze at the furthest deepest blue like the sea and a wood of crimson clouds you will notice that there are highlands of sky and high calm
sense nosaltres només escrits en l'aigua que brolla constantment aigua que es perd en la fossa oceànica aigua amarganta sola i fràgil solitari i final el deler intransferible com el sospir que és aire i torna a l'aire si aprendre és recordar recordem la solitud primera la solitud immaculada destí final de tot destí que es guanya el cel a cops d'aixada. (Neu de congesta, inèdit) I el destí final és quedar sols fins al final abandonats en via morta fusta gronxada per les ones la sang glevada sola sols com l'escenari sol on l'actriu declama sola quedar sols fins al final els nexes entorpits columna de fum solitària allà en la llunyania estrella que s'esbalça dies que es queden sols
days that remain on their own without us only written on water that’s constantly gushing forth water that’s lost in the grave of the ocean bitter water alone and fragile lonely and final the yearning untransferable as the sigh which is air and goes back to the air if to learn is to remember then we remember that first loneliness that spotless loneliness final destiny of every destiny that earns itself heaven on the back of a hoe. (Drifted snow, unpublished) And the final destiny is to remain alone right up to the end abandoned in a siding driftwood rocked by the waves blood clotted by itself alone as the stage is alone where the actress declaims her soliloquy to remain alone right up to the end every connection hindered a single column of smoke far-off in the distance a star flung down the sky