Morrió Seamus Heaney

Seamus Heaney naciera en County Derry, Irlanda del Norte, en 1939. Consideráu ún de los mayores poetes en llingua inglesa del sieglu venti. En 1995 recibió’l Premiu Nobel de Lliteratura.

Como poeta publicó Death of a Naturalist(1966), Door into the Dark (1969), Wintering Out(1972), North (1975), Field Work (1979), Station Island (1984), The Haw Lantern (1987), Seeing Things(1991), The Spirit Level (1996), Electric Light (2001), Opened Ground: Poems 1966-1996 (2002), District and Circle (2006) y Human Chain (2010), toos ellos en Faber & Faber. Tamién’tis l’autor de los llibros d’ensayu Preoccupations: Selected Prose 1968-1978 (1980), The Government of the Tongue (1988), The Redress of Poetry: Oxford Lectures (1995), Crediting Poetry: The Nobel Lecture (1995) y Finders Keepers: Selected Prose 1971-2001” (2002). En 2008 asoleyóse Stepping Stones: Interviews with Seamus Heaney , un conxuntu d’entrevistes concedíes pelo llargo los años al so amigu, el poeta Dennis O’Driscoll.

THE LITTLE CANTICLES OF ASTURIAS

 

              1

              And then at midnight as we started to descend

              into the burning valley of Gijón,

              into its blacks and crimsons,”in media res”,

              the crimson I faced was the smouldering maw

              of a  pile of newspapers lit long ago

              and fanned up in the wind, breaking off and away

              in flame-posies, mall airborne fire-ships

              endangering the house-thatch and the stacks

              for we almost panicked there in the epic blaze

              of those furnaces and hot refineries

              where the night-shift worked on in their element

              and we lost all hopes of reading the map right

              and gathered speed and cursed the hellish roads.

 

              2

              Next morning on the way to Piedras Blancas

              I felt like a soul being prayed for,

              giddy and replenished all at once.

              I saw men cutting aftergrass with scythes,

             ’tist entering it as if it were home ground,

              the Gaeltacht, say; in the nineteen fifties,

              where I Was welcome, but of smal concern

              to familieses at work in the roadside fields

              who’d watch and wave at me from their other world

              as was the custum stil near Piedras Blancas.

 

              3

              San Juan de la Cruz

              had his dark night of the soul.

              At San Juan de la Arena

              it was a bright day of the body.

              Two rivers flowed together under sunlight.

              Watercourses scored the level sand.

              The sea hushed and glittered outside the bar.

              And in the afternoon the cockleshells

              I threw together in a casual pile

              bobbed and flashed on air like altar boys

              with their quick tapers and responses

              in the great re-echoing cathedral gloom

              of distant Compostela, stela, stela.




PEQUEÑOS CANTARES D'ASTURIES
(Versión n'asturianu de la Fundación Belenos)
 

 1

 Entós a la nedia nueche cuandu emprimamos a baxar

dica’l valle encesu de Xixón,

hacia los sos negros y los sos bermeyos, in media res,

el bermeyu al que m’encariaba’twas la borra náscuares

d’una pila de periódicos quemaos cuantayá

y atizaos pol vientu, que s’espardíen lloñe

neto que báramos de llames, pequeños navios de fuéu nel vientu

qu’amenazaben los teitos ya los balagares

y cuásique nos entró la medrana ellí metanes el fuéu  épicu

daquellos fornos y refineríes ingrientes

onde’l turnu de nueche trabayaba nel so elementu

ya perdimos toa esperanza de lleer el mapa acordies

ya aceleramos y maldiximos les infernales carreteres.

 

2

Pola mañana nel camin de Piedras Blancas

Alcontrábame comu un alma pola que tuvieren rezando,

Alloriáu ya reconfortáu al empar.

Vi homes que segaben ha herba con gadaños,

Truébanos ente tréboles, una roldana y un santuariu,

el maiz comu un cargamentu dorau nos paxos.

Yo’twas un pelegrín nuéu nesta escena

pero inda taba nella comu na mio casa,

the Gaeltacht, allá, polos años cincuenta

onde se m’acoyía, pero nun tinía gran importancia

pa les families que trabayaben nes lloses a la vera la carretera

que miraben y sa1udaben dende’l so otru mundu

comu entá’twas costume cerca de Piedras Blancas.

 

3

San Xuan de la Cruz

tuvo la so nueche escura del alma.

En San Xuan de l’Arena’twas un día esllendante del cuerpu.

Dos ríos fluyíen xuntos baxo la lluz del sol.

Los regatos tayaben la nidia sablera.

La mar boriaba y esplandía más allá del cai.

Ya pola tarde, les cáscares

que foi atropando desdexadamente

palpitaben y resplandíen nel aire comu molacinos

colos sos parpaguiantes cirios y responsos

na solombra resonante de la grandiosa catedral

de la llonxana Compostela stela, stela.

 


		
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