LLANTO POR IGNACIO SANCHEZ MEJIAS, a setting in French, Spanish, and English, with images.

By Frederico Garcia Lorca – Images by August Puig

(from different sources, an extract in English. From “3., Cuerpo Presente.” Full original Spanish text here. this English translation appears to have been made by a native Spanish speaker and is very literal gramatically while containing an occasional English misspelling, such as ‘looses’ for ‘loses’ in stanza 3 for ‘pierda,’ which I noted and changed.

A more graceful translation might seek to take the Spanish ‘stones,’ ‘piedras’ and ‘loses,’ ‘pierdas,’ and make the English words chime accordingly.

In English the best-known example of this metonymy that occurs off the top of my head is Bob Dylan’s well-known chorus, which is left as an excercise for the reader. )

Yo quiero ver aquí los hombres de voz dura.
Los que doman caballos y dominan los ríos;
los hombres que les suena el esqueleto y cantan
con una boca llena de sol y pedernales.

Aquí quiero yo verlos. Delante de la piedra.
Delante de este cuerpo con las riendas quebradas.
Yo quiero que me enseñen dónde está la salida
para este capitán atado por la muerte.

Yo quiero que me enseñen un llanto como un río
que tenga dulces nieblas y profundas orillas,
para llevar el cuerpo de Ignacio y que se pierda
sin escuchar el doble resuello de los toros.

Que se pierda en la plaza redonda de la luna
que finge cuando niña doliente res inmóvil;
que se pierda en la noche sin canto de los peces
y en la maleza blanca del humo congelado.

(Here I want to see those men of hard voice.
Those that break horses and dominate rivers;
those men of sonorous skeleton who sing
with a mouth full of sun and flint.

Here I want to see them. Before the stone.
Before this body with broken reins.
I want to know from them the way out
for this captain stripped down by death.

I want them to show me a lament like a river
which will have sweet mists and deep shores,
to take the body of Ignacio where it loses itself
without hearing the double planting of the bulls.

Loses itself in the round bull ring of the moon
which feigns in its youth a sad quiet bull,
loses itself in the night without song of fishes
and in the white thicket of frozen smoke.)

Alternative translation, from here:

Here I want to see those men of hard voice.
Those that break horses and dominate rivers;
those men whose skeletons vibrate and who sing
with mouths full of sun and flint.

Here I want to see them. Before this stone.
Before this body with broken reins.
I want them to show me a way out
for this captain constrained by death.

I want them to show me a lament like a river
with sweet mists and steep banks,
to bear the body of Ignacio and let him disappear
without hearing the double snorting of the bulls.

Let him disappear in the round bullring of the moon
which feigns in its youth a mournful quiet bull;
let him disappear in the night without the song of fishes
and in the white thicket of frozen smoke.

Following Attacks, Spain’s Governing Party Is Beaten [NYT]

I first learned of the fragility of democracy to military assault from internal or external sources as a result of my kindergarten year, 1969, spent in Santiago, Chile. Later in my life I lived briefly, while still a child, in Guadalajara, Mexico. Both of my parents are bilingual in Spanish and English, and my godfather was born in Saltillo, near Mexico City. My wife was born in California of Cuban parents. It is my opinion that the Spanish-speaking peoples of the world are today the most acquainted of all linguistic groups with both the promise (whether broken or upheld) and the price of democracy. They bear the scars of these struggles. Their suffering and their opinions command my sympathy, respect, and love. The people and democracy of Spain have been much on my mind the past few days. I toast their electoral practice.