not-used-to-being-normal:ecc-poetry: worriedaboutmyfern: ecc-poetry: “Tenochtitlan,” by

not-used-to-being-normal:ecc-poetry: worriedaboutmyfern: ecc-poetry: “Tenochtitlan,” by Elisa Chavez. Cortes’ men thought the Mexica’sfloating city must be a dream:stone temples jutting from the water,voracious bright gardensand grand estates. My sun-worshipping ancestorskept their gods close,heeded their rapt whispers.In their names, they built marvelouscanals and walked on the waters. It shouldn’t then surprisethat artists have tried to recaptureTenochtitlan, brooding on the dreamjournals of Spaniards: they imagine herbright causeways, the lush gardenspaving her streets like enchantments. The Spanish, steely god-mongersthat they were, knew wellhow to deal with enchantment:They burned Tenochtitlan to ash. Leí que los Mexica ahogaban a mujeresde cercanos pueblos para apaciguara la diosa de las lluvias.Su templo mayor tenía dosestantes de cráneos. Mis antepasados que adoraban al solmantenían a sus dioses cerca,escuchando a sus voces rapaces.En sus nombres, perpetrabanmaravillas y atrocidades. No debe sorprender entoncesque los pueblos a fuera de Tenochtitlanles daron la bienvenida a cualquieraque prometiera un final al sol cruel,las flores mentirosas, los aguaspavimentados con los huesos de tributas. El dios de los Hispanos fue el oro,y él les mandó a quemar Tenochtitlan,enviándola para reunirse conlas doncellas ahogadas. Is this translation inaccurate? You bet! Miss Translated is a meditation on culture, identity, and the things that get lost in translation by Elisa Chavez. To support this project, check out my Patreon. What you’ve read above is a lie. That is, the poems were real; but the translations don’t accurately reflect each other. This is always the case with Elisa Chavez’s “Miss Translated” poems and it’s why I believe she’s one of the most exciting modern poets working today. Because what she does is honestly extraordinary.  I have no idea which one comes first or what her process is. But what she shares with the world is a poem, in English, side by side with a translation in Spanish. Only the Spanish is wrong. Or, well, the Spanish is right; the English is wrong.  It’s a real poem all right, and often a more powerful one than its English counterpart. But it doesn’t say what the English says. She does not supply a “correct” translation. For that she relies on her readers.  Elisa Chavez says of her project that: “The main conceit behind this work is that to accurately portray my relationship with Spanish, I have to explore the pain and ambiguity of not speaking the language of my grandparents and ancestors. As a result, these poems are bilingual … sort of. Each one is translated into English incorrectly. “The poems I produced have secrets, horrific twists, emotional rants, and confessions hiding in the Spanish. It’s my hope that people can appreciate them regardless of their level of Spanish proficiency.” My own great-grandmother was born and raised in Mexico. My grandmother was raised bilingual and my mother is far more fluent in Spanish than she cares to admit (she says she “doesn’t speak it,” but the one time someone really tried to cheat us and retreated into “no hablo ingles,” she was a FOUNTAIN of español). I was the first on my matrilineal side to be raised monolingual, in English. I love these poems because the process I go through, of reading the English first, then the Spanish and guessing at it, and then looking up a proper translation, feels revelatory. Anyway, all that is lead up. The payoff is, I couldn’t find an “accurate” translation of the Spanish in this poem already online, so I asked my mom friend Francisca Cázares ( you can follow her at https://www.facebook.com/francisca.cazares or https://www.instagram.com/xicana_en_oaklandia/) for the true translation, and she gave me this:I read that the Mexica drowned womenfrom nearby towns to appeasethe goddess of rain.Her temple had twoshelves of skulls.My ancestors who adored the sunkept their gods closelistening to their rapacious voices.In their names they perpetrated miracles and atrocities.It shouldn’t then surprisethat the towns outside Tenochtitlángave welcome to anyonewho promised an end to the cruel sunthe lying flowers, the waterspaved with bones of tributesThe Spanish god was goldand ordered them to burn Tenochtitlánsending her to reunite withthe drowned maids To be honest this poem is challenging to me personally. As I said to a friend, “feels like Chavez’s point with this poem is something close to ‘don’t fucking romanticize human sacrifice, asswads’…Which, yes, but there’s so many more pressing issues…? I stand by loving what she does with making the act of translation part of her poetry, though.” And then I went back and re-read some of the Chavez poem-and-translation sets that I think are raw genius incarnate, like “La sirena y pescador / The mermaid and the fisherman” or “El vampiro / ICE.” So then I thought, well, all of Elisa Chavez’s other fans deserve to be challenged by “Tenochtitlan” as I have been challenged, probably. Or maybe I just want to talk about this with people who will understand, and sharing the translation contributes to understanding?In any case I asked Francisca if I could share it with credit and she said yes, so here you are. She honestly did a beautiful job with the translation so if you go onto her social media for fuck’s sake be nice. The one thing I love about the implied criticism of the Mexica in this poem is that outsiders can’t actually read it. So I am the traitor breaching the language gates, please don’t make me regret it. This is a fantastic reblog.  In the 3-and-a-half-ish years since I started the Miss Translated series, I’ve been thrilled to see readers create translations–whether out of their own bilingualism, via translation software, or through friends and family. This is work! It’s not something I expect, and I’m always humbled when it happens. The one rule of Miss Translation that I’ve held myself to is that I don’t provide accurate English translations of the Spanish. However, if one just so happens to crop up, I feel like I can speak on it a little bit.  So in this reply, I’m gonna talk about the lovely work that Francisca Cázares has done with this (re-translation? de-translation?), as well as respond to some of the points raised by @worriedaboutmyfern​. ARE YOU READY for:  Conquistadors?? The stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, or HISTORY The Florentine Codex??!? poems written in the 1500s Seguir leyendo Hoo boy do i have ThoughtsSo here’s the thing, i can’t talk for every latin country, but i know at least in my country, we’re not taught the history of before America was discovered. We’re taught about how Colón/Columbus came up with his idea of crossing the sea to get to india, and how the ppl here were confused by Indians in the beginning. We’re taught about que conquest and the colonization period and how spain tried to put every type of racial mixture a name (there were over 800 different terms that meant different combinations) bc that way they were able to say who was worth more and who was worth less. We were taught about how we got freed from spain, our country’s heroes, and how we became a country. But besides of a generic acknowledgement, we’re not taught about slavery, and the history of black ppl here. We’re not taught about the genocide that the indigenous communities went through, or what happened when they assimilatedSo we grow up, and some of us end up trying to dig up that part of our history that we weren’t taught in school. Who were the people before us, where did everyone come from. I’m particularly interested in how our racial mixture and differences made up the different cultures in my country from nowadaysAnd it’s kind of an apology of sorts, not talking about the ugly things. Like we’re over compensating their history by not bringing up that just like they were victims, they were still ppl, with good and bad actions and everything in between. Sometimes i feel like I’m defending the spaniards “civilization” process by talking about the bad things the precolombinos indigenous ppl did. It’s scary ending up demonizing the people that were here before us and repeating the actions of colonizers. How much is acknowledging their history, all of it, and how much is being judgmental from a culture i just don’t understandAnd you talk about “how can you speak the language of the colonizer” and that’s a discussion i have with myself all the time. Spanish is my first language. I’d rather die than losing it, bc it taught me the way of seeing the world, for better or worse, and that shapes me. It’s a deep part of who i am. But it IS the colonizers language. But what am i supposed to do? Speak English? The language i was taught bc that was the only way i could have a shot at getting a job? Another colonizers language? A foreign language pushed by a neoclonialist country that pushes me and my culture to assimilate to usamerican culture so they can sell me stuff or they can get stuff for cheap from us? Or should i try and dig up a long lost heritage that I’m not sure i have a right to claim? And try and look for what language i would speak if spaniards hadn’t come? Even when who i am, racially and culturally is a direct result from colonialism? Is it disrespectful to the ppl before me to speak Spanish? Is it disrespectful to the ppl before me that passed down the Spanish to me to stop speaking Spanish in favor of a foreign language? Do i even have a choice in the matter?Regardless, we owe it to the ppl that were here, and the ppl that still are here, and the ones that came later, to be truthful to the actual history of what went down here. We’re doing no one any favors by sugar-coating history, by erasing both their culture and their mistakes and their ugliness and their gifts and knowledge and all the good and the bad and the in between that they did -- source link

More pics about