By Olga Orozco, Clare E. Sullivan
"This manuscript has been reproduced from the microfilm master."
These translated poems have been incorporated in a dissertation written by way of Clare E. Sullivan lower than the name "Translation and Poetry of Olga Orozco". those translations haven't been released in different places, AFAIK. the one English-translated poems of Olga Orozco have been released lower than the name "Engravings Torn From Insomnia" (trans. Mary Crow) which i've got scanned and uploaded.
Olga Orozco (1920-1999) (real identify Olga Noemí Gugliotta) used to be an Argentine poet born in Toay, los angeles Pampa. She spent her youth in Bahía Blanca until eventually she was once sixteen years outdated and she or he moved to Buenos Aires together with her mom and dad the place she initiated her occupation as a writer.
Orozco directed a few literary courses utilizing a few pseudonymous names whereas she labored as a journalist. She used to be a member of so-called «Tercera Vanguardia» iteration, which had a robust surrealist tendency . Her poetic works have been encouraged by means of Rimbaud, Nerval, Baudelaire, Miłosz and Rilke.
Clare Sullivan, an affiliate Professor of Spanish on the college of Louisville, makes a speciality of translation and modern Latin American poetry. She released a translation of Argentine Alicia Kozameh’s 250 Saltos, uno inmortal in 2007 and Mexican Cecilia Urbina’s Un martes como hoy in 2008, either with Wings Press. In 2011 she's going to direct a brand new translation certificates application on the collage of Louisville.
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Additional resources for Poetry of Olga Orozco
It's a prelude to God. he's collecting his items in us. 2 hundred Reproduced with permission of the copyright proprietor. extra replica prohibited with out permission. AL PAJARO SE LO INTERROGA CON SU CANTO Hay en algunos ojos esas borras de afiil que dejan los crepusculos al evaporarse • un ala que perdura, una sombra de ausencia - . Son ojos hechos para distinguir hasta el ultimo rastro de los angeles melancolfa, para veren l. a. lluvia el inventario de los bienes perdidos, asf como hace falta un inviemo inside “para observar l. a. escarcha y los enebros erizados de hielo” dijo Wallace Stevens congelando el ofdo y los angeles pupila, conveitido tal vez en el hombre de nieve que contempla los angeles nada con l. a. nada y que oye sdlo el viento, sin ningun evangelio que no sea ese sonido unico del viento (aungue tal vez hablara de l. a. m£s extremada desnudez; no de los angeles transparencia). Pero yo se que cada tiniebla se indaga solamente con l. a. noche que Uevo, que l. a. piedra se entreabre ante l. a. piedra de los angeles misma manera que se tantea el corazdn con el abismo. <,Hay alguna otra forma de asomarse hasta el fondo del subsuelo, el fondo de otra herida, el fondo de otro infiem o? No hay ninguna otra lampara para reconocer lo prdximo, lo ajeno, lo distante. Lo atestigua l. a. esquiva intencidn de l. a. rata chillando entre los vidrios, resbalando en l. a. rampa de una impensable luz; lo proclama l. a. estrella con su remoto cddigo adherido a un temblor, tal vez a una agonfa que ya fue; lo confirma ese yo que camina contigo y es memoria donde quiera que olvides, y ese otro, inabarcable, centelleante, que le sale al encuentro bajo el agua de las transformaciones, y a veces ni es character, ni colour, ni fragrance, ni huella de este mundo. Ambos estdn tejidos con los angeles sustancia misma del silencio. Se parecen a D ios en su versidn de hudsped reversible: el alma que te habita es tambten l. a. mirada del cielo que te incluye. 201 Reproduced with permission of the copyright proprietor. extra replica prohibited with out permission. query THE fowl WITH ITS tune In a few eyes there are these dregs o f indigo that the twilight leaves while it evaporates - a wing that lasts, a shadow o f absence they're eyes made to differentiate even the final hint o f depression, to work out a listing o f possessions misplaced within the rain, simply as an inner iciness is required "to behold the junipers shagged with ice" stated Wallace Stevens freezing the ear and the attention, switched over might be into the snowman who contemplates not anything with not anything and who hears in simple terms the wind, with none gospel that won't that singular sound o f the wind (even although he may have spoken o f the main severe nakedness; no longer o f transparency). yet i do know that every darkness searches itself with basically the evening that I hold, that the stone half-opens sooner than the stone within the similar approach that the guts assessments itself opposed to the abyss. Is there otherwise to appear into the depths o f the subsoil, the depths of one other wound, the depths of one other hell? there's no different lamp to envision what's close to, overseas, far-off.