Rauquemo Piwkan - Jaime Huenún
Kintuyawülkeyiñ lawen lelfün püle
(ngüchayngüchay engü polew, üllfaw engü pilluñiweke).
Koñillküleki antü, trangliñnarki kachu.
Zumiñkülen narkonküleki Ragwe zew aychüfwenon pu challwa.
Allküyiñ ta mamakün pu waka ñamküyawlu rulu mew
Ka kiñe witrawe pañillwe ñi rünrünün amulelu Cancha Larga püle.
Puwiyiñ chi lewfü mu fey fükepuyiñ wüllfü;
Kiñe tangi ñüküfkülen wütupayiñmew.
Kafkü züngueyiñmew fey elueyiñmew ükon
Ka kiñeke alim kolka pülku yeafiüm chi wütre.
Matumatu weyülüyiñ trüküfnuam.
Trokür nga nürüfnefi chi püll lewfü.
Rangi rüme nga epu kochüko kalül,
Rüftu lig epu küyen reke pu ko pun mew,
Malangkünuyngü ñi epu wechoz ngüchayngüchay pel,
Türpu küzawtunon kiñepülekünuyemekefiel tichi pu litraf ka chi mangiñ ko.
Kake külentukünufingün kam namuntukünufingün chi üñüm
Fey tangi püle küpay ellkawkülerpan pu anümka mew.
Pu wentru may üyümingün ñi nüfawe küze
Fey allukatulen ütrüfnentufingün chi epeke la nüfa.
Ngollilen amutuyiñ, püllomeñ pichuñmanewel,
Ülkantunerpufiel kiñeke küfche ül ka willitulerpuel kürüf mew.
Rangiñ lelfün wümawnagiyiñ
Fey impolnangümeyiñmew trangliñ, kachu ka ünfi llemay.
Cisnes de Rauquemó
Buscábamos hierbas medicinales en la pampa
(limpiaplata y poleo, hierbabuena y llantén).
El sol era violeta, se escarchaban los pastos.
Bajaba el Rahue oscuro ya sin lumbre de peces.
Oímos mugir vacas perdidas en la vega
y el ruido de un tractor camino a Cancha Larga.
Llegamos hasta el río y pedimos balseo;
un bote se acercó silencioso a nosotros.
Nos hablaron bajito y nos dieron garrotes
y unos tragos de pisco para aguantar el frío.
Nadamos muy ligero para no acalambrarnos.
La neblina cerraba la vista de la orilla.
En medio del junquillo dos cuerpos de agua dulce,
blancos como dos lunas en la noche del agua,
doblaron sus dos cuellos de limpia plata rotos,
esquivando sin fuerzas los golpes y el torrente.
Cada uno tomó un ave de la cola o las patas
y remontó hacia el bote oculto entre los árboles.
Los hombres encendieron sus linternas de caza
y arrojaron en sacos las presas malheridas.
Nos marchamos borrachos, emplumados de muerte,
cantando unas rancheras y orinando en el viento.
En mitad de la pampa nos quedamos dormidos
cubriéndonos de escarcha de hierba y maleficios.
Rauquemó Swans
We searched for medicinal herbs in the pampas
(limpiaplata and pennyroyal, mint and llantén)
The sun was violet, the grass covered in frost.
Rahue flowed dark without the light of fish.
We heard the bellows of cows lost in the market
and the noise of a tractor on the way to Cancha Larga.
We arrived at the river and called the ferry over
a boat drew near in silence.
They spoke in hushed voices and gave us clubs
and drinks of Pisco for the cold.
We swam quickly to avoid cramp.
The mist closed the view of the river bank.
Among the reeds two bodies of sweet water
white like two moons in the night river
they bend their two necks of broken silver
dodging without effort the blows of the current.
Each of us took a bird by the tail or feet
and went back to the boat hidden among trees.
Men lit their hunting lanterns
throwing the wounded prey into sacks.
We marched drunk, feathered in death
singing folk songs and pissing in the wind.
In the middle of the pampa we fell asleep
covered in frost, grass and curses.
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.