Islandia/Iceland/Island Wednesday, September 05, 2007 | Deja tu mensaje despues del tono...
For some of my friends is not a secret that one of my life dreams is visit Iceland, for some people Australia is their travel goal, becouse its exotic and far away, so in this case Iceland is my Australia
This is one poem writen from a Venezuelan poet called Eugenio Montejo, its one of my favorites one and I want to share it with you... Im gonna post the original one in Spanish and then the translation in English
Islandia
Islandia y lo lejos que nos queda,
con sus brumas helada y sus fjordos
donde se hablan dialectos de hielo.
Islandia tan próxima del polo,
purificada por las noches
en que amamantan las ballenas.
Islandia dibujada en mi cuaderno,
la ilusión y la pena (o viceversa).
¿Habrá algo más fatal que este deseo
de irme a Islandia y recitar sus sagas,
de recorrer sus nieblas?
Es este sol de mi país
que tanto quema
el que me hace soñar con sus inviernos.
Esta contradicción ecuatorial
de buscar una nieve
que preserve en el fondo su calor,
que no borre las hojas de los cedros.
Nunca iré a Islandia. Está muy lejos.
A muchos grados bajo cero.
Voy a plegar el mapa para acercala.
Voy a cubrir sus fjordos con bosques de palmeras.
enjoy it....
Iceland
Iceland and the distances which are left us,
with their frozen mists and fjords
where they speak dialects of ice.
Iceland so close to the pole,
purified by nights
where the whales suckle their young.
Iceland drawn in my exercise book,
the illusion and the tragedy (or vice-versa).
Could anything be more ill-fated than this longing
to go to Iceland and recite its sagas,
to traverse its fogs?
It's the sun of my country
which burns so much
that makes me dream of its winters.
This equatorial contradiction
of seeking a snow that preserves heat at its core,
that doesn't strip the cedars of their leaves.
I will never get to Iceland. It's very far.
Many degrees below zero.
I'm going to fold the map over and bring Iceland closer.
I'm going to cover its fjords with palm tree groves.
Pictures stolen from Gry and Lára facebook profiles :)
This is one poem writen from a Venezuelan poet called Eugenio Montejo, its one of my favorites one and I want to share it with you... Im gonna post the original one in Spanish and then the translation in English
Islandia
Islandia y lo lejos que nos queda,
con sus brumas helada y sus fjordos
donde se hablan dialectos de hielo.
Islandia tan próxima del polo,
purificada por las noches
en que amamantan las ballenas.
Islandia dibujada en mi cuaderno,
la ilusión y la pena (o viceversa).
¿Habrá algo más fatal que este deseo
de irme a Islandia y recitar sus sagas,
de recorrer sus nieblas?
Es este sol de mi país
que tanto quema
el que me hace soñar con sus inviernos.
Esta contradicción ecuatorial
de buscar una nieve
que preserve en el fondo su calor,
que no borre las hojas de los cedros.
Nunca iré a Islandia. Está muy lejos.
A muchos grados bajo cero.
Voy a plegar el mapa para acercala.
Voy a cubrir sus fjordos con bosques de palmeras.
enjoy it....
Iceland
Iceland and the distances which are left us,
with their frozen mists and fjords
where they speak dialects of ice.
Iceland so close to the pole,
purified by nights
where the whales suckle their young.
Iceland drawn in my exercise book,
the illusion and the tragedy (or vice-versa).
Could anything be more ill-fated than this longing
to go to Iceland and recite its sagas,
to traverse its fogs?
It's the sun of my country
which burns so much
that makes me dream of its winters.
This equatorial contradiction
of seeking a snow that preserves heat at its core,
that doesn't strip the cedars of their leaves.
I will never get to Iceland. It's very far.
Many degrees below zero.
I'm going to fold the map over and bring Iceland closer.
I'm going to cover its fjords with palm tree groves.
Pictures stolen from Gry and Lára facebook profiles :)
