Rosario Castellanos
(Mexico, 1925–1974)
de De la vigilia estéril (1950)
LA ANUNCIACIÓN
(excerpt)
Porque desde el principio me estabas destinado.
Antes de las edades del trigo y de la alondra
y aun antes de los peces.
Cuando Dios no tenía más que horizontes
de ilimitado azul y el universo
era una voluntad no pronunciada.
Cuando todo yacía en el regazo
divino, entremezclado y confundido,
yacíamos tú y yo totales, juntos.
Porque desde el principio me estabas destinado...
He aquí que te anuncias.
Entra contradictorios ángeles te aproximas,
como una suave música te viertes,
como un vaso de aromas y de bálsamos.
Por humilde me exaltas,
Tu mirada, bénevola,
Transforma mis llagas en ardientes esplendores.
He aquí que te acercas
Y me encuentras rodeada de plegarias
Como de hogueras altas.
from The Sterile Virgin
THE ANNUNCIATION
(excerpt)
Because since the beginning you were destined to be mine. Before the ages of wheat and of the lark
and even before the fishes.
When God had nothing more than horizons
of unlimited blue and the universe
was a will not yet pronounced.
When everything lay in the divine lap,
intermingled and confused,
you and I lay there, complete, together.
Because since the beginning you were destined to be mine.
And here, you announce yourself.
Among contradictory angels you approach,
pouring yourself like a soft music,
like a glass of aromas and balsams.
You exalt my humility,
Your gaze, benevolent,
Transforms my wounds into ardent splendors.
And now, you approach
And you find me surrounded by prayers
Like high leaping flames.
Rosario Castellano
(Mexico, 1925 - 1974)
1. SE HABLA DE GABRIEL
Como todos los huéspedes mi hijo me estorbaba
ocupando un lugar que era mi lugar,
existiendo a deshora,
haciéndome partir en dos cada bocado.
Fea, enferma, aburrida
lo sentía crecer a mis expensas,
robarle su color a mi sangre, añadir
un peso y un volumen clandestinos
a mi modo de estar sobre la tierra.
Su cuerpo me pidió nacer, cederle el paso;
darle un sitio en el mundo,
la provisión de tiempo necesaria a su historia.
Consentí. Y por la herida en que partió, por esa
hemorragia de su desprendimiento
se fue también lo último que tuve
de soledad, de yo mirando tras de un vidrio.
Quedé abierta, ofrecida
a las visitaciones, al viento, a la presencia.
1. TALK OF GABRIEL*
Like all my guests my son impeded me,
occupying a place that was my place,
existing at inopportune times,
making me divide each bite in two.
Ugly, sick, bored,
I felt him grow at my expense,
steal the color from my blood,
add clandestine weight and volume
to my way of being on the earth.
His body asked to be born, to yield to his passing,
to give him his place in the world
the provision of time necessary for his history.
I consented. And through the wound of his departure,
through the hemorrhage of his detachment,
also went the last of my solitude,
looking alone behind a glass.
I remained open, offered
to the visitations, to the wind, to presence.
* Poet Castellano’s son, Gabriel, was born 1961
Apocryphal Gospel of James
(coda of SE HABLA DE GABRIEL)
Now I, Joseph, was walking about
and I looked up and saw the heaven standing still,
and I observed the air in amazement
and the birds of heaven at rest.
I looked down at the earth,
and I saw a vessel lying there,
and workmen reclining,
and their hands were in the vessel.
Those who were chewing did not chew.
Those who were lifting did not lift up,
and those were carrying to their mouths did not carry,
but all faces were looking upward.
I saw sheep standing still,
and the shepherd raised his hand to strike them,
but his arm remained up.
I observed the streaming river,
and I saw the mouths of the kids at the water,
but they were not drinking.
The winds stopped they made no sound;
there was no motion of tree leaves.
The streams did not flow;
there was no motion of the sea.
The maiden stood looking intently into heaven.
King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Luke I: 46 - 55
2. MAGNIFICAT
And Mary said,
My soul doth magnify the Lord,
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior,
For he hath regarded the low estate of his hand maiden:
for behold, from hence forth, all generations
shall call me blessed.
For he that is mighty hath done to me great things;
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is on them that fear him
from generation to generation.
For he hath shown strength with his arm;
he hath scattered the proud [...]
He hath put down the mighty from their seats,
and exalted them of low degree.
He hath filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he hath sent empty away.
He hath helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy;
As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham,
and to his seed for ever.
King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Haggai 2: 6, 7
3. SHAKE THE HEAVENS
For thus says the Lord [...] :
Yet once, it is a little while,
and I will shake the heavens
and the earth and the sea and the dry land.
And the desire of all the nations shall come.
Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
(Mexico, 1648 – 1695)
4. PUES MI DIOS NACIDO A PENAR
VILLANCICO V*
(NAVIDAD, 1689, No. 287)
Pues mi Dios ha nacido a penar,
déjenle velar.
Pues está desvelada por mi
déjenle dormir.
Déjenle velar,
que no hay pena, en quien ama,
como no penar.
Déjenle dormir,
que quien duerme, en el sueño
se ensaya a morir.
Silencio, que duerme.
Cuidado, que vela…
Déjenle velar.
Déjenle dormir.
4. BECAUSE MY LORD WAS BORN TO SUFFER (CHRISTMAS, 1689, No. 287)
Since my God was born to suffer,
let him stay awake.
Since he stays awake for me,
let him sleep.
Let him stay awake,
for there is no pain,
in one who loves as if there’s no suffering.
Let him sleep,
for one who sleeps,
while dreaming, rehearses death.
Silence, let him sleep.
Take care, let him stay awake…
Let him stay awake.
Let him sleep.
* villancico was a common poetic and musical form of Latin America, popular from the late 15th to 18th centuries. With the decline in popularity of the villancicos in the 20th century, the term became reduced to mean merely Christmas carol.
King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 1-3, 7-8
5. WHEN HEROD HEARD
Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea
in the days of Herod the king, behold,
there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, saying,
Where is he that is born King of the Jews?
for we have seen his star in the east,
and [have] come to worship him.
Now when Herod the king had heard these things,
he was troubled [...] and he privily called his wise men, inquired of them what time the star appeared.
And he sent them to Bethlehem, saying,
Go and search diligently for the young child;
and when you have found him, bring me word again,
that I may come and worship him also.
King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 9, 11
6. AND THE STAR WENT BEFORE THEM
When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them,
till it came and stood over where the young child was.
And when they were come into the house,
they saw the young child with Mary his mother,
and fell down, and worshipped him:
and when they had opened their treasures,
they presented unto him gifts;
gold, and frankincense and myrrh.
Rubén Darío
(Nicaragua, 1867-1916)
7. LOS TRES REYES MAGOS
– Yo soy Gaspar. Aquí traigo el incienso.
Vengo a decir: La vida es pura y bella.
Existe Dios. El amor es inmenso.
¡Todo lo sé por la divina Estrella!
– Yo soy Melchor. La mirra aroma todo.
Existe Dios. Él es la luz del día.
La blanca flor tiene sus pies en lodo.
¡Y en el placer hay la melancolía!
– Soy Baltasar. Traigo el oro. Aseguro
que existe Dios. Él es el grande y fuerte.
Todo lo sé por el lucero puro
que brilla en la diadema de la Muerte.
– Gaspar, Melchor y Baltasar, callaos.
Triunfa el Amor, y a su fiesta os convida.
¡Cristo resurge, hace la luz del caos
y tiene la corona de la Vida!
7. THE THREE WISE KINGS
I am Gaspar. I have brought frankincense,
and I have come here to say that life is good.
That God exists. That love is everything.
I know it is so, because of the heavenly star.
I am Melchior. I have brought fragrant myrrh.
Yes, God exists. He is the light of day.
The whitest flower is rooted in the mud,
and all delights are tinged with melancholy.
I am Balthasar. I have brought gold.
I assure you, God exists. He is great and strong.
I know it is so because of the perfect star
that shines so brightly in Death’s diadem.
Gaspar, Melchior, Balthasar: be still.
Love has triumphed, and bids you to its feast.
Christ, reborn, turns chaos into light,
and on His brow He wears the crown of life.
King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 13
8. AND WHEN THEY WERE DEPARTED
And when they were departed,
behold, the angel of the Lord
appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying,
Arise, and take the young child and his mother,
and flee into Egypt,
and be thou there until I bring thee word:
for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.
King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Matthew 2: 16
9. AND HE HATH SLEW ALL THE CHILDREN
Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked
[by] the wise men, was exceeding wroth,
and he sent forth,
and he slew all the children that were in Bethlehem.
Rosario Castellanos
(Mexico, 1925 – 1974)
10. MEMORIAL DE TLATELOLCO
La oscuridad engendra la violencia
y la violencia pide oscuridad
para cuajar el crimen.
Por eso el dos de octubre aguardó hasta la noche
Para que nadie viera la mano que empuñaba
El arma, sino sólo su efecto de relámpago.
¿Y a esa luz, breve y lívida, quién? ¿Quién es el que mata?
¿Quiénes los que agonizan, los que mueren?
¿Los que huyen sin zapatos?
¿Los que van a caer al pozo de una cárcel?
¿Los que se pudren en el hospital?
¿Los que se quedan mudos, para siempre, de espanto?
¿Quién? ¿Quiénes? Nadie. Al día siguiente, nadie.
La plaza amaneció barrida; los periódicos
dieron como noticia principal
el estado del tiempo.
Y en la televisión, en el radio, en el cine
no hubo ningún cambio de programa,
ningún anuncio intercalado ni un
minuto de silencio en el banquete.
(Pues prosiguió el banquete.)
No busques lo que no hay: huellas, cadáveres
que todo se le ha dado como ofrenda a una diosa,
a la Devoradora de Excrementos.
No hurgues en los archivos pues nada consta en actas.
Ay, la violencia pide oscuridad
porque la oscuridad engendra sueño
y podemos dormir soñando que soñamos.
Mas he aquí que toco una llaga: es mi memoria.
Duele, luego es verdad. Sangra con sangre
y si la llamo mía traiciono a todos.
Recuerdo, recordamos.
Ésta es nuestra manera de ayudar a que amanezca
sobre tantas conciencias mancilladas,
sobre un texto iracundo sobre una reja abierta,
sobre el rostro amparado tras la máscara.
Recuerdo, recordamos
hasta que la justicia se siente entre nosotros.
10. IN MEMORY OF TLATELOLCO*
Darkness engenders violence
and violence demands darkness
to coagulate the crime.
That is why October the second waited until night
So that no one could see the hand that gripped
The weapon, but only its lightening flash effect.
And in that light, brief and pallid, who? Who is it
that kills?
Who are those who agonize? those who die?
Those who flee without shoes?
Those who run to fall into the pit of a prison?
Those who rot in the hospital?
Those who remain mute, forever, with terror?
Who? Who? No one. On the following day, no one.
Dawn broke on the plaza cleanly swept **;
the newspapers reported as the main news
the state of the weather.
And on the television, on the radio, in the cinema
there was no change of program,
no interrupting news bulletin, nor even one
minute of silence at the banquet.
(Thus the banquet proceeded.)
Don’t search for that which is not there: traces, corpses for all has been given as offering to a goddess,
to the Devourer of Excrements. +
Do not rummage through the archives, because nothing appears on record.
Ah, violence demands darkness
because the darkness engenders the dream
and we can sleep while dreaming that we dream.
But here I touch a wound: it is my memory.
It hurts, therefore it is true. It bleeds with blood
and if I call it mine I betray them all.
I remember, we remember.
This is our method of helping the dawn to break
upon so many stained consciences,
upon an irascible text on an open grate,
upon the protected face behind the mask.
I remember, we remember
until justice is felt among us.
* written after the military and police massacred students and civilians protesting the government
in the Plaza de las Tres Culturas on October 2, 1968, in the Tlatelolco section of Mexico City.
** literal translation: “the plaza day-break sweep”; “barrida” can be translated as: to sweep clean; a political sweep; or a slaughter
+ refers to the goddess Tlazoltéotl, the Devourer of Excrement
King James Version (1604 – 1611)
Isaiah 30: 25, 26
IN THE DAY OF THE GREAT SLAUGHTER
In the day of the great slaughter, when the towers fall,
the light of the moon shall be the light of the sun,
and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold,
as the light of seven days [...]
And there shall be upon ev’ry high mountain
and upon ev’ry high hill, rivers and streams of waters.
* villancico was a common poetic and musical form of Latin America, popular from the late 15th to 18th centuries. With the decline in popularity of the villancicos in the 20th century, the term became reduced to mean merely Christmas carol.
Apocrypha of the New Testament
Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew 20
12. A PALM TREE
And so it happened,
that on the third day after their departure,
Mary was fatigued by the heat of the sun in the desert
and, seeing a palm tree, said to Joseph,
“I want to rest a bit under its shadow.”
Joseph quickly led her to the palm
and let her get down from the animal.
While Mary sat, she looked up at the top of the palm
and saw it full of fruit.
She said to Joseph,
“I wish I might have some fruit from this tree.”
Joseph said to her,
“I am astonished that you say this,
when you see how high this palm tree is.
You think to eat from the fruit of the palm,
but it is not possible.
I think more of the lack of water,
which already fails us.
We now have nothing
by which we can refresh ourselves and the animals.”
Then the infant Jesus,
who was resting with smiling face on his mother’s lap, Jesus said to the palm tree,
“Bend down, tree, and refresh my mother with your fruit.”
And, at this voice, the palm bent down its head
to the feet of Mary, and they gather its fruit,
and all were refreshed.
Then Jesus said to it,
“Rise up, palm, and be strong,
be a companion of my trees
which are in my Father’s Paradise.
Open a water course beneath your roots
which is hidden in the earth,
and from it let flow waters to satisfy us.”
And the palm raised itself at once,
and fountains of water,
very cold and sweet,
began to pour out through the roots.
Rosario Castellanos
(Mexico, 1925 – 1974)
de El rescate del mundo (1952)
UNA PALMERA
(interpolated into A PALM TREE)
Señora de los vientos,
garza de la llanura
cuando te meces canta
tu cintura.
Gesto de la oración
o preludio del vuelo,
en tu copa se vierten uno a uno
los cielos.
Desde el país oscuro de los hombres
he venido, a mirarte, de rodillas.
Alta, desnuda, única.
Poesía.
from The Rescue of the World (1952)
A PALM
Lady of the winds,
heron of the plain
when you sway,
you waist sings.
Gesture of prayer
or prelude to the flight,
into your cup are poured the heavens
one by one.
From the dark land of men
I have come, to look at you, kneeling.
Tall, naked, unique.
Poetry.