Elewün - Jaime Huenún
Fachi pu ko tañi allush kürüf, Elías Huenún,
Ezequiel rüngalkülelu Osorno ñi llüngüz mapu püle.
Kom tañi pu kuñülyen küme nüwküleyngün lewlew mew,
Luyüfküleyelu engün tichi pu üñfitun ñi milla mew.
Eypiayu may, fochüm, tañi pewmael Herminda engü.
Küparki nga yepayatew kureyeagelchi domo reke tukuwtulen.
Amuyu, pienew, üyüw iñche tañi mülemum,
Itro fill wüme kümelkali fey chemnorume afmakelan.
Femlu fey fülmapaenew mufü zumiñ püchükeche,
Tofkütuymanew ñi ange engün petu ñi añütumeken.
Kiñe triwkü chi lawal wente ruka mew zewmapay ñi zañe,
Tañi laku llafentufi ko mew ka lliwüm chazi mew.
Fachi pu ko tañi allush kürüf, Elías Huenún,
Fülkonpamün tachi mapu püle kümkümpürakelu pun mew,
Fachi rünganko püle, ruka achawall püle, tachi ligke manzano püle,
Tachi pu keltawma ñi yawaw kultraftunefilu mutrung mapu püle.
Tañi ruka renulelu wente millawmaye liken,
Tañi ruka witrampüramkülelu wente kütral engü filla,
Tañi ruka pelotunetew züchüke kawell,
Tañi ruka ngülakünulelfi wüllngïñ tüyechi püllomeñ ka chi kurüwün.
Tüfa may Francisca Huenún ngetuy ta rüngalkonkületulu
Leliwülnetew ta iñche rangiñ rayen ka üykülechi küze püle.
Wekun ta trekayawingün pu kuñülyen fey
Nüfülneluwingün pülku, ti ilo, chi pu nemül.
Ñi tükukan tañi ñuke puliwen engü amutuy.
Inageyew pu intas, pu sauce, pu tralemküwe.
Tañi pu wümaw ñi ñüke, püchütrem fey rüngalkonkületulu,
Yomelelürpuenew tañi ürkükawün llawfeñ.
Eypiayu may, fochüm anay, ñefñef tañi pekeel
Narkületun tañi ngütantu püle we pürapachi antü mew.
Feymu lle welu wirikawkakünuwken kütral mu ka trufken mu
Ka ngillatuiñmakakünuken ñi tol ko mu ka ngellipuiñma chazi mu.
Fachi pu ko tañi allush kürüf, Elías Huenún,
Catalina, Zulema, Carlos, Margarita,
Kom tañi pu mollfüñ kake pun üytunefiel
Mapu mew ka ñamkületuchi pu mawüzantü ñi kengzülla mew.
Entierros
Aura de las Aguas, Elías Huenún,
Ezequiel enterrado en los llanos de Osorno.
Todos mis parientes aferrados a las llamas,
bruñidos por el oro de las hechicerías.
Te diré , hijo mío, que soñé con Herminda.
Venía ella a buscarme vestida como novia.
Vamos, me decía, allá donde yo vivo,
todo es tan bonito y no me falta nada.
Después se me allegaron unos niños oscuros,
la cara me escupieron entre sueño y vigilia.
Un tiuque hizo su nido en el techo de alerce,
mi nieta lo espantó con agua y sal batida.
Aura de las Aguas, Elías Huenún,
acérquense a la tierra que arde por las noches,
al pozo, al gallinero, a los blancos manzanos,
al ruido de cadenas chocando en los cimientos.
Mi casa levantada sobre el oro y la plata,
mi casa construída sobre fuego y miseria,
mi casa iluminada por caballos fantasmas,
mi casa abrió su puerta a la muerte y al alba.
Ahora es Francisca Huenún la que yace
mirándome entre flores y cirios encendidos.
Afuera los parientes caminan y se pasan
de mano en mano el vino, la carne, las palabras.
La madre de mi huerto se va con la mañana.
La siguen los cerezos, los sauces, las campanas.
La madre de mis sueños, pequeña y enterrada,
me deja como herencia su sombra fatigada.
Te diré, hijo mío, que he visto sabandijas
bajando de mi cama apenas raya el día.
Por eso me hago cruces de fuego y de ceniza
y santiguo mi frente con agua y sal bendita.
Aura de las Aguas, Elías Huenún,
Catalina, Zulema, Carlos, Margarita,
todos mis hermanos nombrados noche a noche
en la tierra y el eco de montañas perdidas.
Burials
Waters’ aura, Elías Huenún,
Ezekiel buried in the Osorno plains.
All my relatives clutching at the flames,
burnished by sorcery’s gold.
I tell you, my son, I dreamt of Herminda.
She came to find me in her wedding dress.
Let’s go, she said, there where I live,
everything is so beautiful and I lack nothing.
Later some dark children gathered near
and spat on my face between dream and wakefulness.
A tiuque made its nest in the larch-wood roof
my granddaughter shooed it off with salt and water.
Waters’ aura, Elías Huenún,
come near the land burning by night
to the well, the hen house, the white flowers of the apple trees,
to the noise of chains crashing in the foundations.
My house built on gold and silver
my house built on fire and misery
my house illuminated by phantom horses
my house opened its door to death and the dawn.
Here lies Francisca Huenún
she looks at me through flowers and candles.
Outside the family walk
and hand each other wine, meat and words.
The mother of my garden goes with morning
followed by willows, bells and cherry trees.
The mother of my dreams, small and buried,
leaves me the inheritance of her tired shadow.
I tell you, my son, I’ve seen the worms
crawling down my bed in the first ray of light.
This is why I cross myself with fire and ash
with holy water and salt on my brow.
Waters’ aura, Elías Huenún,
Catalina, Zulema, Carlos, Margarita,
all my brothers and sisters named night after night
in the earth and the echo of distant mountains.
Steve Brock lives in Adelaide and is both translator and poet. His first collection, the night is a dying dog, was published in 2007. Steve received a grant from Arts SA to complete his current poetry manuscript,
Double Glaze, which is forthcoming with Five Islands Press in 2013.
Juan Garrido Salgado was born in Chile and was a political prisoner under the Pinochet regime. He now lives in Adelaide. He has published three books of poetry, and his poems have been published in Chile, Colombia, Spain, El Salvador, Brazil, Europe, New Zealand and Australia. He has also translated into Spanish works from John Kinsella, Mike Ladd, Judith Beveridge, Dorothy Porter and MTC Cronin, including
Talking to Neruda’s Questions. He has translated five Aboriginal poets for
Espejo de Tierra/Earth Mirror Poetry Anthology. With Steve Brock and Sergio Holas, Garrido-Salgado also translated into English the trilingual
Mapuche Poetry Anthology, and has translated many of Lionel Fogorty’s poems into Spanish. He is currently working on the Spanish translation of a selection of Jumoke Verissimo’s poems, to be read at the Granada International Poetry Festival in Nicaragua.
