Tag Archives: Ivonne Gordon Carrera

Ivonne Gordon Carrera

Translator’s Note:

A translator is like a mirror. The translator reflects the strengths and weakness of a poem, as well as the light within the poem. When I translate, I first read the poems out loud in Spanish to get the tone and the sound. I read the rough English translation Ivonne provides. Then I research the topic she is writing about and explore the English language to bring her words to life. I write the poem in English. Then I return to the Spanish and her English renditions to make sure I am saying what she meant. I have had to cut some lines because they are not what she is saying. It’s a dance between meaning, sound, and mood. Ivonne’s voice is different from my own poetic voice. I enjoy getting into her head and exploring her world. The perspective is fresh for me. She is an amazing poet. It’s a challenge and fun to bring her work to life in a new language. It’s fun to get together to hear her read the poem in Spanish and then I read the translation for the first time.

 

Ivonne GordonIvonne Gordon Carrera (poet) creates art and writes in San Bernardino, CA. She brings myth to life in contemporary context. Cindy is the author of Quiet Lantern (Turning Point), spider with wings (Jamii Publishing), Breathe in Daisy, Breathe out Stones is forthcoming (FutureCycle Press), and she co-authored Speaking Through Sediment with Michael Cooper (ELJ Publications). Her poem, “Mapping” was nominated for the Liakoura Award by Pirene’s Fountain. She is a translator. Cindy is a founding member of PoetrIE, an Inland Empire based literary community. Her poetry appeared or is forthcoming in Driftwood Press, The Honest Ulsterman (Ireland), Naugatuck River Review, The Whirlwind Review, Birds Piled Loosely, and others. www.fiberverse.com

 

Cindy RinneCindy Rinne (translator) creates art and writes in San Bernardino, CA. She co-authored with Michael Cooper Speaking Through Sediment (ELJ Publications). Cindy’s book, Quiet Lantern, is forthcoming (Turning Point) and spider with wings is forthcoming (Jamii Publishing). Her poem, “Mapping” was nominated for the Liakoura Award by Pirene’s Fountain. Cindy is a founding member of PoetrIE, an Inland Empire based literary community. Cindy is an editor for “Tin Cannon” by PoetrIE. She is a translator. Her fiber art has appeared in Ghost Town Literary Magazine. Her poetry appeared or is forthcoming in Naugatuck River Review, Zoomoozophone, Indiana Voice Journal, Young Ravens Literary Review, Eternal Haunted Summer, Cactus Heart Press, The Wayfarer, Dual Coast Magazine, Artemis Journal, Meat for Tea, The Valley Review, and others. www.fiberverse.com

 

Tiger

The tiger owned all the letters of the primordial
alphabet. The tiger placed his lips on top of mine.
An unexplainable grammar sprung up. I entered a world
of sleeping mirrors. I hesitated between dangerous curves,
I saw myself without looking, I entered the tiger through my eyes.
I felt his heart roar the bellowing of all prophets.
The rain has no body, nor face. All is peeled off
leaving silence, hidden from nothingness. The tiger did not roar,
no drums nor quaking. My cupped hands savant omens and trances
as I caressed his face. An alphabet of circular signs seared
my senses. I was born from the tiger’s eye and my own.
I swallowed the rain of primordial letters. And in the center of the arcane,
I return without pausing to germínate in the midnight hours.

 

 

Tigre

El tigre posee todas las letras del alfabeto
primordial. El tigre posó sus labios sobre los míos.
Una gramática inexplicable surgió. Entrar en un mundo
de espejos dormidos. Vacilar en curvas peligrosas,
mirarme sin mirarme, entrar por mis ojos al tigre.
Sentir su corazón rugir el bramido de los profetas.
La lluvia no tuvo cuerpo, ni cara. Todo se volvió
silencio oculto de la nada. El tigre no rugió,
tambores, ni temblores. Con mis manos llenas
de augurios y huellas acaricié su rostro. Un abecedario
de signos circulares mugieron mis sentidos. Nací
de mi ojo, del ojo del tigre. Bebo lluvia de las letras
primordiales. Y en medio de lo arcano vuelvo
a germinar sin cesar en el centro de la noche.