Ballads North and South, No. 1 - Claudia Lars

For many years I couldn’t choose
the land of my song.
Two lands, throbbing within,
were mystery and gift.
I carried both in my blood.
I gathered both in my embrace.
A dual love held close
opposing landscapes:
on the right, proud crests
of galloping palm trees,
and on the left, gray breezes
over sleepless ships.
Here, beaches of sun…
There, rivers of ice…

From the south, bees arrived
pursuing the spikenard’s pollen.
Vague nostalgias
and the urge to weep.
From the north, crashing surf,
blossoms of lightning.
Smoke from bonfire and pipe,
sweet isles and seaweed.

Such beauty couldn’t fit
beneath my eyelids.
I found it in my veins
and on the wide horizon:
a stag astray in the snow,
an iridescent bird,
the heart’s compass
seeking north, seeking rest.

For years I couldn’t bring myself
to choose the land of my song.
Today I know it holds
the paths of barefoot men,
blue volcano folds,
thatched roofs on plains,
a tapestry of ivy and nests
along cliff walls,
deep water rocking
childlike clouds and lizards,
a great effort in chains
and a prolonged groan.

Immersed in what was mine,
I finally chose, but slowly,
the land of absolute love
to one day shut these eyes.

And yet my northern song,
urged on me by the dead,
reels like a comet,
rocks like a ship.

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Claudia Lars (1899-1974) El Salvador
Translated by Philip Pardi
Source: InTranslation