The Summer in Sintra – Je cherche après Mathilde
του Βασίλη Πολύζου
The town was already described in the 11th century by the Arab geographer Al-Bacr and later by the poets Luís de Camões and Lord Byron (Childe Harold's Pilgrimage)
In 1809 Lord Byron wrote to his friend Francis Hodgson, "I must just observe that the village of Cintra in Estremadura is the most beautiful in the world”
(From Wikipedia)
Βασίλης Πολύζος
Ματίλντα
Η Ματίλντα, the flower-eater,
η ξεναγός των πλανόδιων μουσικών,
μου γνέφει ένα χτυποκάρδι,
ένα ταξιδιάρικο φιλί στην άκρη των δαχτύλων της.
Ρίχνει στο δεξί της ώμο μια πλεξούδα ηλιαχτίδες,
τιτιβίζει κρυστάλλινα γελάκια,
ποζάρει Ρίτα Χέιγουορθ – Μπριζίτ – Ναστάζια – Οφηλία,
σαϊτεύει ίσια στην καρδιά μου.
Λέει,
σήμερα δε με νοιάζει ν’ αφήσω τ’ άρωμά μου
στα σεντόνια του Arundel Hotel,
να σου χαρίσω όλα τα fados που φωλιάζουν στην κιθάρα μου
την Ημέρα των Ψυχών θα ’μαι φρόνιμη στη Σίντρα.
Η Ματίλντα πέταξε τα σαντάλια της
και τρέχει ξυπόλυτη στο πάρκο.
Τα μαλλιά της ιππεύουν τον άνεμο.
Μες στο ριχτό μπλουζάκι της
παίζουν ragtime δυο περιστέρια.
Στο θρόισμα των ποδιών της
ανθίζουν πυρκαγιές τα flamingos.
Στην κυριακάτικη εξέδρα ο ζογκλέρ
κρατάει για χάρη της ακίνητα στον αέρα
εφτά κουρδιστά καναρίνια.
Ύστερα με μιαν αδιόρατη κίνηση την εξαφανίζει.
Από το βιβλίο Επίλογοι και άλλα Κεκραγάρια
εκδ. Εριφύλη 1999
Luis Vas de Camões (1524-1580)
A sonnet
On Revisiting Cintra after the Death of Catarina
APPAREL of green woods and meadows gay;
Clear and fresh waters innocent of stain,
Wherein the field and grove are found again,
As from high rocks ye take your downward way;
And shaggy peaks, and ordered disarray
Of crags abrupt, know that ye strive in vain,
Till grief consent, to soothe the eye of pain,
Shown the same scene that Pleasure did survey.
Nor as erst seen am I beheld by you,
Rejoiced no more by fields of pleasant green,
Or lively runnels laughing as they dart;
Sown be these fields with seed of ruth and rue,
And wet with brine of welling tears, till seen
Sere with the herb that suits the broken heart.
--Translated by Richard Garnett
George Gordon Byron
from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (XIV. - XXX.)
XIV.
On, on the vessel flies, the land is gone,
And winds are rude in Biscay's sleepless bay.
Four days are sped, but with the fifth, anon,
New shores descried make every bosom gay;
And Cintra's mountain greets them on their way,
And Tagus dashing onward to the deep,
His fabled golden tribute bent to pay;
And soon on board the Lusian pilots leap,
And steer 'twixt fertile shores where yet few rustics reap.
XV.
Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see
What Heaven hath done for this delicious land!
What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree!
What goodly prospects o'er the hills expand!
But man would mar them with an impious hand:
And when the Almighty lifts his fiercest scourge
'Gainst those who most transgress his high command,
With treble vengeance will his hot shafts urge
Gaul's locust host, and earth from fellest foemen purge.
……………………………………………………………………………..
XVIII.
Poor, paltry slaves! yet born midst noblest scenes -
Why, Nature, waste thy wonders on such men?
Lo! Cintra's glorious Eden intervenes
In variegated maze of mount and glen.
Ah me! what hand can pencil guide, or pen,
To follow half on which the eye dilates
Through views more dazzling unto mortal ken
Than those whereof such things the bard relates,
Who to the awe-struck world unlocked Elysium's gates?
……………………………………………………………………………
XXVI.
And ever since that martial synod met,
Britannia sickens, Cintra, at thy name;
And folks in office at the mention fret,
And fain would blush, if blush they could, for shame.
How will posterity the deed proclaim!
Will not our own and fellow-nations sneer,
To view these champions cheated of their fame,
By foes in fight o'erthrown, yet victors here,
Where Scorn her finger points through many a coming year?
………………………………………………………………………….
Ψ'αχνοντας για τη Ματίλντα στη Σίντρα
φωτογραφία του Βασίλη Πολύζου 1998
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου