Thursday, April 11, 2019

La vuelta del procónsul


Zbigniew HERBERT (1924-1999).     Traducción de Florián Smieja



LA VUELTA DEL PROCONSUL

He decidido regresar a la corte del emperador
una vez más trataré de vivir allí
podría quedarme aquí en la provincia lejana
bajo las tiernas hojas del sicomoro
y el benévolo gobierno de los nepotes enfermizos

cuando vuelva no buscaré congraciarme
aplaudiré moderadamente
sonreiré a medias frunciré las cejas con discreción
no me lo pagarán con una cadena de oro
la de hierro bastará

he decidido regresar mañana o pasado mañana
no puedo vivir entre las viñas aquí todo me es ajeno
los árboles no tienen raíces las casas cimientos la lluvia es de vidrio las flores huelen a            cera
una nube seca golpea el cielo vacío
así pues regresaré mañana pasado mañana en todo caso me vuelvo

tendré de nuevo que ponerme de acuerdo con mi rostro
para que el labio inferior domine su desprecio
para que se vacíen totalmente los ojos
y para que no tiemble mi desdichada barbilla la liebre de mi rostro
al entrar el capitán de la guardia

de una cosa estoy seguro no beberé con él vino
cuando me acerque su copa bajaré los ojos
y fingiré sacar de mis dientes restos de la comida
además al emperador le gusta el valor ciudadano
dentro de cierto límite dentro de un cierto razonable límite
él es en verdad un hombre como los demás
y está ya muy cansado de los juegos con el veneno
no puede beber a placer siempre en ascuas
la copa de la izquierda para Drusio la de la derecha acercarla a los labios
beber agua después sin apartar los ojos de Tácito
salir al jardín y regresar cuando hayan levantado el cadáver

He decidido regresar a la corte del emperador
espero en verdad arreglármela de algún modo

                                            

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Voces de América Latina

"Mensaje que no vas a leer", 
cuento incluido en la antología de narraciones latinoamericanas
editada por María Palitacchi, 
publicada por Media Isla.










Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Galgos no, podencos...





Por entre unas matas,
seguido de perros,
no diré corría,
volaba un conejo.

De su madriguera
salió un compañero
y le dijo: «Tente
amigo, ¿qué es esto?».

«¿Qué ha de ser?», responde;
«sin aliento llego...;
dos pícaros galgos
me vienen siguiendo».

«Sí», replica el otro,
«por allí los veo,
pero no son galgos».
«¿Pues qué son?» «Podencos».

«¿Qué? ¿podencos dices?
Sí, como mi abuelo.
Galgos y muy galgos;
bien vistos los tengo».

«Son podencos, vaya,
que no entiendes de eso».
«Son galgos, te digo».
«Digo que podencos».

En esta disputa
llegando los perros,
pillan descuidados
a mis dos conejos.

Los que por cuestiones
de poco momento
dejan lo que importa,
llévense este ejemplo.


Tomás de Iriarte

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Los motivos del artista

Un ensayo de Samuel Johnson



The Rambler: No. 127. Tuesday, 4 June 1751.

Coepisti melius quàm desinis: ultima primis Cedunt: dissimiles hic vir, et ille puer.Ovid, HEROIDES, IX.23-24.

Succeeding years thy early fame destroy; Thou, who began'st a man, wilt end a boy.

Politian, a name eminent among the restorers of polite literature, when he published a collection of epigrams, prefixed to many of them the year of his age at which they were composed. He might design by this information, either to boast the early maturity of his genius, or to conciliate indulgence to the puerility of his performances. But whatever was his intent, it is remarked by Scaliger, that he very little promoted his own reputation, because he fell below the promise which his first productions had given, and in the latter part of his life seldom equalled the sallies of his youth.
It is not uncommon for those who at their first entrance into the world were distinguished for attainments or abilities, to disappoint the hopes which they had raised, and to end in neglect and obscurity that life which they began in celebrity and honour. To the long catalogue of the inconveniencies of old age, which moral and satirical writers have so copiously displayed, may be often added the loss of fame.
The advance of the human mind towards any object of laudable persuit, may be compared to the progress of a body driven by a blow. It moves for a time with great velocity and vigour, but the force of the first impulse is perpetually decreasing, and though it should encounter no obstacle capable of quelling it by a sudden stop, the resistance of the medium through which it passes, and the latent inequalities of the smoothest surface will in a short time by continued retardation wholly overpower it. Some hindrances will be found in every road of life, but he that fixes his eyes upon any thing at a distance necessarily loses sight of all that fills up the intermediate space, and therefore sets forward with alacrity and confidence, nor suspects a thousand obstacles by which he afterwards finds his passage embarrassed and obstructed. Some are indeed stopt at once in their career by a sudden shock of calamity, or diverted to a different direction by the cross impulse of some violent passion; but far the greater part languish by slow degrees, deviate at first into slight obliquities, and themselves scarcely perceivelat what time their ardour forsook them, or when they lost sight of their original design.
Weariness and negligence are perpetually prevailing by silent encroachments, assisted by different causes, and not observed till they cannot, without great difficulty, be opposed. Labour necessarily requires pauses of ease and relaxation, and the deliciousness of ease commonly makes us unwilling to return to labour. We, perhaps, prevail upon ourselves to renew our attempts, but eagerly listen to every argument for frequent interpositions of amusement; for when indolence has once entered upon the mind, it can scarcely be dispossessed but by such efforts as very few arerwilling to exert.
It is the fate of industry to be equally endangered by miscarriage and success, by confidence and despondency. He that engages in a great undertaking with a false opinion of its facility, or too high conceptions of his own strength, is easily discouraged by the first hindrance of his advances, because he had promised himself an equal and perpetual progression without impediment or disturbance; when unexpected interruptions break in upon him, he is in the state of a man surprised by a tempest where he purposed only to bask in the calm, or sport in the shallows.
It is not only common to find the difficulty of an enterprize greater, but the profit less, than hope had pictured it. Youth enters the world with very happy prejudices in her own favour. She imagines herself not only certain of accomplishing every adventure, but of obtaining those rewards which the accomplishment may deserve. She is not easily persuaded to believe that the force of merit can be resisted by obstinacy and avarice, or its lustre darkened by envy and malignity. She has not yet learned that the most evident claims to praise or preferment may be rejected by malice against conviction, or by indolence without examination; that they may be sometimes defeated by artifices, and sometimes overborn by clamour; that in the mingled numbers of mankind, many need no other provocation to enmity than that they find themselves excelled; that others have ceased their curiosity, and consider every man who fills the mouth of report with a new name, as an intruder upon their retreat, and disturber of their repose; that some are engaged in complications of interest which they imagine endangered by every innovation; that many yield themselves up implicitly to every report which hatred disseminates or folly scatters; and that whoever aspires to the notice of the publick, has in almost every man an enemy and a rival; and must struggle with the opposition of the daring, and elude the stratagems of the timorous, must quicken the frigid and soften the obdurate, must reclaim perverseness and inform stupidity.
It is no wonder that when the prospect of reward has vanished, the zeal of enterprize should cease; for who would persevere to cultivate the soil which he has, after long labour, discovered to be barren? He who had pleased himself with anticipated praises, and expected that he should meet in every place with patronage or friendship, will soon remit his vigour, when he finds that from those who desire to be considered as his admirers nothing can be hoped but cold civility, and that many refuse to own his excellence, lest they should be too justly expected to reward it.
A man thus cut off from the prospect of that port to which his address and fortitude had been employed to steer him, often abandons himself to chance and to the wind, and glides careless and idle down the current of life, without resolution to make another effort, till he is swallowed up by the gulph of mortality.
Others are betrayed to the same desertion of themselves by a contrary fallacy. It was said of Hannibal that he wanted nothing to the completion of his martial virtues, but that when he had gained a victory he should know how to use it. The folly of desisting too soon from successful labours, and the haste of enjoying advantages before they are secured, is often fatal to men of impetuous desire, to men whose consciousness of uncommon powers fills them with presumption, and who, having born opposition down before them, and left emulation panting behind, are early persuaded to imagine that they have reached the heights of perfection, and that now being no longer in danger from competitors, they may pass the rest of their days in the enjoyment of their acquisitions, in contemplation of their own superiority, and in attention to their own praises, and look unconcerned from their eminence upon the toils and contentions of meaner beings.
It is not sufficiently considered in the hour of exultation, that all human excellence is comparative; that no man performs much but in proportion to what others accomplish, or to the time and opportunities which have been allowed him; and that he who stops at any point of excellence is every day sinking in estimation, because his improvement grows continually more incommensurate to his life. Yet, as no man willingly quits opinions favourable to himself, they who have once been justly celebrated, imagine that they still have the same pretensions to regard, and seldom perceive the diminution of their character while there is time to recover it. Nothing then remains but murmurs and remorse; for if the spendthrift's poverty be imbittered by the reflection that he once was rich, how must the idler's obscurity be clouded by remembering that he once had lustre!
These errors all arise from an original mistake of the true motives of action. He that never extends his view beyond the praises or rewards of men, will be dejected by neglect and envy, or infatuated by honours and applause. But the consideration that life is only deposited in his hands to be employed in obedience to a Master who will regard his endeavours, not his success, would have preserved him from trivial elations and discouragements, and enabled him to proceed with constancy and chearfulness, neither enervated by commendation, nor intimidated by censure.








Friday, April 3, 2015

Thou Shalt Not Kill





    I had grown weary of him; of his breath
    And hands and features I was sick to death.
    Each day I heard the same dull voice and tread;
    I did not hate him: but I wished him dead.
    And he must with his blank face fill my life--
    Then my brain blackened; and I snatched a knife.
    But ere I struck, my soul's grey deserts through
    A voice cried, 'Know at least what thing you do.'
    'This is a common man: knowest thou, O soul,
    What this thing is? somewhere where seasons roll
    There is some living thing for whom this man
    Is as seven heavens girt into a span,
    For some one soul you take the world away--
    Now know you well your deed and purpose. Slay!'
    Then I cast down the knife upon the ground
    And saw that mean man for one moment crowned.
    I turned and laughed: for there was no one by--
    The man that I had sought to slay was I.

                                                 G. K. Chesterton



Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Flannery OÇonnor reads "A good man is hard to find"


Aquí el enlace:
http://www.openculture.com/2012/05/rare_1959_audio_flannery_oconnor_reads_a_good_man_is_hard_to_find.html