Mi Canto [Spanish original and English translation]

Hoy yo volví a cantar,
Algo mas alto que un llanto,
Que aun no puedo evitar
Pero lo puedo soportar,
Envuelto en mi como un manto.

La música sabe llamar,
A lo que ya se a perdido,
Y por no saber amar,
O no querer destacar,
Se enterró en el olvido.

Por profunda la fisura,
Siempre se puede surgir,
La tiniebla mas oscura,
Con una luz blanca y pura,
Se puede sobrevivir.

Unas notas en cadenas,
Empreñan una melodía,
Y en cenizas y arenas,
Crece esperanza en las venas,
Y da luz a la alegría.

Mi madre en su tristeza,
Lloraba lagrimas de canto,
Lo hacia con gran destreza,
Y dolorosa belleza,
Música su diario llanto.

Mi canto es mi poesía,
Sin tono, dolorosa, impura,
No es un canto de alegría,
Pero la tristeza expía,
Y la esperanza perdura.


My Song

Today I began to sing again,
Somewhat louder than the cry,
That I still cannot avoid,
But can now bear,
Wrapped around me like a cloak.

Music knows how to call back,
That which was lost,
Through not knowing how to love,
Or not wanting to stand out,
And was buried in oblivion.

No fissure is too deep,
For us to climb out of,
The deepest darkness,
Can with a pure white light,
Be pierced and endured.

A few notes linked together,
impregnate a melody,
And out of ashes and sand,
Shoots of hope can grow,
That can give birth to joy.

My mother in her sadness,
Cried tears of song,
With great skill,
And painful beauty,
Music her daily lament.

My song is my poetry,
Toneless, painful, and impure,
It is not a song of joy,
But sadness provides release,
And hope endures.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Where there is light at the end of the tunnel, there is hope. When the dark sets in and is cloying, we all need something that we can cling to. Poetry has always been a life saver to me. Both my mother and father found solace in music, but there has been many a long night when I have turned my attention to my poetry books and the classics of old. A relatable and lovely poem Victor.

Chris

[Victor D. Lopez]

Thank you Chris! Music (playing and hearing it) and poetry/writing have always been an important lifeline for me--when I was a young old man in my teens and now that I am an older but little wiser version of my younger self in my 60s. This is one of my (few) efforts in Spanish whose rhyme and cadence in the original I like. Unfortunately, imagery aside, these are very hard to capture in translation. Reading the Argentine epic poem, Martin Fierro, evoked the cadence of my original. I really like the form despite my inarticulate use of it. Thanks again for your kind, encouraging words.