Espergesia, by César Vallejo. Spanish poem translated into English by me. How was it?

Hi everyone! Today I'm going to translate the poem Espergesia from Peruvian César Vallejo. As you probably know I'm learning English, so I think translating Spanish poetry into English is a good way to improve my skills while promoting spanish authors.

Cesar Vallejo was a Peruvian writer who was born in 1892 and died in 1938. Vallejo is considered by many critics and writers as the most important poet of the 20th century because his poems are an example of the man againts living and against God. His poems are also very authentic and realistic.

This poem is one of the most iconics of Vallejo because of the way he tells us his suffering. It shouldn't be easy to realize one was born when God was sick, how painful it must be.

I remember first time I read this poem I was really sad because the love and life. I was wondering if I was a reincarnation of Vallejo or something like that... hahaha I was young and silly...

Espergesia (English)

I was born on a day
when God was sick.

Everyone knows that I live,
that I am evil, and they do not know
about that december of that january.
For I was born on a day
when God was sick.

There is a vacuum
in my metaphysical wind
that no one must feel:
the cloister of a silence
that spoke on the edge of a fire.

I was born on a day
when God was sick.

Brother, listen, listen...
Allright. I can not leave
without bringing decembers
without leaving januaries
For I was born on a day
when God was sick.

Everyone knows that I live,
that I chew... and they do not know
why there is a threadbare winds squeak
of a darkest tasteless of a coffin,
unrolled from the Sphinx
inquisitive of the Desert.

Everyone know and they do not know
that the light is consumptive
and the shadow is fat...
and they do not know that the mistery synthesizes...
that it is the musical and sad hump
that from a distance denounces
the meridian pass from the boundaries to the Boundaries

I was born on a day
when God was sick,
gravely sick.

Espergesia (Español)

Yo nací un día
que Dios estuvo enfermo.

Todos saben que vivo,
que soy malo; y no saben
del diciembre de ese enero.
Pues yo nací un día
que Dios estuvo enfermo.

Hay un vacío
en mi aire metafísico
que nadie ha de palpar:
el claustro de un silencio
que habló a flor de fuego.

Yo nací un día
que Dios estuvo enfermo.

Hermano, escucha, escucha...
Bueno. Y que no me vaya
sin llevar diciembres,
sin dejar eneros.
Pues yo nací un día
que Dios estuvo enfermo.

Todos saben que vivo,
que mastico... y no saben
por qué en mi verso chirrían,
oscuro sinsabor de ferétro,
luyidos vientos
desenroscados de la Esfinge
preguntona del Desierto.

Todos saben... Y no saben
que la Luz es tísica,
y la Sombra gorda...
Y no saben que el misterio sintetiza...
que él es la joroba
musical y triste que a distancia denuncia
el paso meridiano de las lindes a las Lindes.

Yo nací un día
que Dios estuvo enfermo,
grave.

This is my first entire poem translated ever. All your comments and suggestions are welcome.

= )

                                                             Sick of love - Joel Carpenter

                                                           









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