viernes, 21 de marzo de 2014

PORT-OF-SPAIN (poem from "Estado de Emergencia" translated into TRINI créole by Anastasia Ramjag)



Port-of-Spain


“Port of Spain, the sum of history, Froude´s non-people, a downtown babel of shop signs and streets,
mongrelized, polyglot, a ferment without history, like heaven”.

Derek Walcott, The Antilles: Fragments of Epic Memory





 Like a wave in d sky
But on lan’ an’ is not a wave but a dragon dancin’ soca an’ dat does move
D hip an’ give it to me gimme gi’ meh love dat temptress ass hot
Like muh princess here/ Mmm
An’ more still meh soul lookin’ fuh yuh in d forests an’ caves an’ rivers an’
Buttons shit enough remove everyting dat comes
Now comes d husband St. George he name From Great Britain

“Yuh know dahlin’ time
Time surroun’ we like wind
Undisciplined
An’ so
We dance in limbo”

“Sweet mama ah tellin’ yuh dat Borges
Dat St. Borges aim he African spear
At d neck an’
Is meh neck so
Stop screwin/ aroun’/Let meh screw/You/Meh love”

“We chirren go be damned a hundred times ovah
We parents damned a hundred times dey go be
Verse is d hidden rose
In d middle
Of a tornado of thorns”

But it eh d rose but words an’ is not St. Borges but Christopher    
Repsol who in d name of d King I declare I’s a slave to yuh dance a
Fricana meh sister come on mama gimme yuh tithe and yuh lil pearl oh how
Yuh excite meh / Mmm
An’ even more so in yuh seas ah fine yuh suddenly wet an’ suddenly a prick
Suddenly love comin’ like a wave yuh love arrive in meh life
Like a wave of uneven force

“Petals we goin’ to d sky
Fallin’dong
In circles lookin’ fuh d verb
Of a centre
Dat is silence an’ den”

“But dat verb is time an’ I is time an’
You also is time if yuh dance wit’ me meh love yuh won’t
Be worth flowers or roses or composures that thou wast used to
From me if thou couldst have left thou wouldst  have
But thou cannot leave because thou art mine wife

“Yuh tie meh up tuh d sky by meh foot
Like a pendulum
D wind movin’ meh head
Denyin’sayin’ tuh d floor
Its memory:

Buh where d snow from afore an’ where d Caribs dat in d snow
Pile d Indians’ gold bodies high it was twelve
On d clock though it wasn’t clocks  it was
Peace in spite of war equality
Though the chief did come like he comin’ now
D Beloved hip movement takin’ me straight over
Head tuh d sky.



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