To my brother Miguel - César Vallejo

Translating César Vallejo – ‘A mi hermano Miguel: In memoriam’

On my James Rammell web-site I say that this poem inspired some of the scenes in my eco-thriller, Wounded Mountain. In Spanish the poem is incredibly beautiful. It is full of powerful emotions, of memories and of a yearning for something lost in youth. When I came across the poem and looked at some of the existing English translations I felt the need to create my own translation.

For those who may be interested, I’ve annotated my English translation below with a few comments on why I chose to use particular forms of words. In the Spanish original the poem has lines of uneven length and few, if any, rhymes; so I concentrated on retaining the poem’s structure and line length, as well as the word rhythm and syllable count, the cadence, whilst trying to convey the emotion and poetic sense of the original into English.

You can find a Spanish version of the poem here.

My English translation is here.

To my brother Miguel: In memoriam

Brother, today I sit out on the bench of the house.

‘En el poyo de la casa’ - ‘on the bench of the house’ is the most simple translation, although others have translated the reference as ‘stone bench’ or ‘stone seat’ or even ‘brick bench’. A degree of permanence is implied; it is the bench ‘of the house’, probably a bench found outside a country cottage near the door, but it is not clear that the poet specifically meant a stone or brick bench.

Where your absence causes an unending emptiness.

‘Una falta sin fondo’ is often translated as ‘a bottomless emptiness’ or ‘a bottomless loss’. ‘Una falta’ is ‘a lack’ or ‘an absence’. ‘Sin fondo’ relates to depth but might relate to distance. My preference was to use the word ’unending’ to help convey the emotion of the original Spanish.

I remember how we used to play at this time, and that mama

‘Esta hora’ could be at ‘at this hour’ or ‘at this time’.

would caress us: “But, boys…”

‘Nos acariciaba’ – ‘caressed us’ is the most literal translation. Some translators have tried to explain the meaning more by using words such as ‘calming’ or ‘lovingly chiding’ to emphasise the act of mothering. ‘Pero, hijos...’ – ‘hijos’ can mean ‘children’ but in context ‘boys’ is more appropriate. ‘Pero’ is ‘but’. Some have used ‘now’, presumably to emphasise the idea that the mother is not really telling the children off but simply gently remonstrating with them in a loving way.

Now I hide myself,

‘Ahora yo me escondo’. This could be translated more simply as ‘now I hide’, but that would overlook the reflexive nature of the poet’s words and reduce the original eight syllables to just three.

as before, always those early evening

‘Todas estas oraciones vespertinas’. ‘Always those’or ‘always these evening prayers’ is more direct. Other translators have used ’evening lectures’. I imagine the Catholic boys had to attend early evening prayers as part of their religious education. For the young boys perhaps this was sometimes regarded as a chore and so they extended their game of ‘hide and seek’ to try to avoid it.

prayers, and I hope that you will not discover me.

‘Espero que tú no des conmigo’. ‘Hope you won't find me’ is more direct, but ‘hope that you won’t discover me’ is a better fit.

In the parlour, the hall, the corridors.

‘Por la sala, el zaguán, los corredores’. ‘La sala’ – ‘the living room’,’the drawing room’. I preferred ‘the parlour’ (or ‘the parlor’ per US spelling). ‘El zaguán’ – variously translated as ‘the vestibule’, ‘the closet’, ‘the entryway’. I preferred ‘the hall’.

Then, you hide yourself, and I do not find you.

I remember that we shed tears,

‘Me acuerdo que nos hacíamos llorar’. ‘Nos haciamos’ – ‘we did’. ‘Llorar’ could be ‘cry’,‘weep’, ‘mourn’, ‘shed tears’. Some translators are tempted to explain why the brothers are crying e.g. ‘we made ourselves cry…from so much laughing’, but this elaboration is absent from the poet’s own words. Neither of ‘we made each other cry’ nor ‘we made ourselves cry’ seems appropriate –this is a behaviour enjoyed by both boys as a result of their play, not something done to each other. Here the simple form ‘we shed tears’ seems most appropriate.

brother, in that game.

Miguel, you hid yourself away

‘Tú te escondiste’. I prefer the simple ‘you hid yourself away’ to other more elaborate translations e.g. ‘you went into hiding’, or ‘you disappeared’.

one night in August, at the coming of the dawn;

‘Al alborear’. I prefer‘at the coming of the dawn’ to ‘as dawn broke’ or ‘near dawn’.

but, instead of laughing as you hid, you were sad.

‘En vez de ocultarte riendo’. The more literal‘instead of hiding laughing’ is a little ungainly in English. ‘Estabas triste’ – ‘you were sad.’ Others have used ‘gloomy’ or ’anguished’ instead of ‘sad’.

And your twinned heart of those spent evenings

‘Gemelo’ is‘twin’. These two brothers were not twins, but ‘twin heart’ is a common translation. ‘De esas tardes extintas se ha aburrido de no encontrarte’ – this phrase seems to give translators much trouble. Variations I’ve come across are:‘extinguished afternoons is weary of not finding you’; ‘absent afternoons is tired of not finding you’; and ‘those dead evenings grew annoyed at not finding you’. I have tried to find a simple, more poetic translation.

has grown weary of not finding you. And now

a shadow falls on my soul.

‘Cae sombra en el alma’. ‘Shadow’ is preferred to ‘shade’. This is sometimes translated in the plural i.e. ‘shadows fall on my soul’. I believe the singular ‘shadow’ is more appropriate. ‘Soul’ seems more appropriate than‘spirit’, which is sometimes used for ‘alma’.

Listen, brother, do not delay

in showing yourself. Okay? Mama might become worried.

‘En salir’, in context, is ‘to emerge’ but ‘showing yourself’ is more attractive.

English translation by James Rammell. With all due acknowledgements: César Vallejo.

A mi hermano Miguel: In memoriam

Hermano, hoy estoy en el poyo de la casa.

Donde nos haces una falta sin fondo¡

Me acuerdo que jugábamos esta hora, y que mamá

nos acariciaba: "Pero, hijos..."

Ahora yo me escondo,

como antes, todas estas oraciones

vespertinas, y espero que tú no des conmigo.

Por la sala, el zaguán, los corredores.

Después, te ocultas tú, y yo no doy contigo.

Me acuerdo que nos hacíamos llorar,

hermano, en aquel juego.

Miguel, tú te escondiste

una noche de agosto, al alborear;

pero, en vez de ocultarte riendo, estabas triste.

Y tu gemelo corazón de esas tardes

extintas se ha aburrido de no encontrarte. Y ya

cae sombra en el alma.

Oye, hermano, no tardes

en salir. Bueno? Puede inquietarse mamá.

Read more about César Vallejo here.