posted morning of Saturday, February first, 2014
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Stand still in the cellar and I hear
The floorboards creaking
As she walks across them
And the house made flesh is groaning
Beneath
The accumulated weight
Of all the years
And thousands of years
And all the feet
That have tread on its planks
And all the winds
That have buffeted its timbers
And dislodged shingles
From its roofs
Years gone by
Now night is fallen
The house sighs
And settles. In their tank
The fish
Are quiet. Outside
I can hear
The rustling
Leaves.
posted morning of February first, 2014 by J
Possibly of interest afa translation, this is a back-translation, a second translation. I wrote the first draft several months ago in English, and without line breaks. Something about it caught my ear as suggesting it would flow very nicely in Spanish -- and it did, but needed line breaks and a few tweakings of meaning. It became a Spanish poem -- that is to say, the process of translation was a process of revision. In order to make it an actual work of poetry I had to change the idiom.
So the above version is a re-translation, carrying back into English of a text originally written in English.
posted afternoon of February first, 2014 by J