A translation: “Twilight in Poley”

A while back, when I was living in Spain, Christian Law Palacín and I translated a collection of poems by Vicente Núñez for the Vicente Núñez Foundation titled Canción antigua: An Old Song.

Vicente Núñez (June 8, 1926 – June 22, 2002) is considered one of the most important Andalusian poets in the second half of the 20th century. In 1982 he won the National Critic’s Award for Spanish Poetry with his collection Ocaso en Poley. Poley is the ancient name of his home town, Aguilar de la Frontera, near the city of Cordova.

I treasured his poems’ lyric musicality and moving metaphors, often centered on hidden love because for many years in Spain he had to hide his gay identity. But I think there is one poem that I managed to capture especially well in English. It’s the title poem of the collection Ocaso en Poley. Here is the poem, my translation — and, why not, a couple of machine translations.

Ocaso en Poley

Si la tarde no altera la divina hermosura

de tus oscuros ojos fijos en el declive

de la luz que sucumbe. Si no empaña mi alma

la secreta delicia de tus rocas hundidas.

Si nadie nos advierte. Si en nosotros se apaga

toda estéril memoria que amengüe o que diluya

este amor que nos salva más allá de los astros,

no hablemos ya, bien mío. Y arrástrame hacia el hondo

corazón de tus brazos latiendo bajo el cielo.

Twilight in Poley (my translation)

If evening has not touched the divine grace

of your dark eyes gazing at the fading

yielding light. If my soul has not sullied

your delightful solid sunken secret.

If no one has seen us. If we can quench

those sterile memories that might defame

this saving love from far beyond the stars,

now not a word, my darling. Let your arms and

pulsing heart pull me deep beneath the sky.

 

Evening in Poley (via DeepL)

If the evening does not alter the divine beauty

of your dark eyes fixed on the decaying

of the succumbing light. If it does not tarnish my soul

the secret delight of your sunken rocks.

If no one warns us. If in us is extinguished

all sterile memory that amengüe or that dilute

this love that saves us beyond the stars,

let us speak no more, my good. And draw me into the deep

heart of your arms beating under the sky.

sunset at poley (via Google Translate)

If the afternoon does not alter the divine beauty

of your dark eyes fixed on the decline

of the light that succumbs If it doesn’t tarnish my soul

the secret delight of your sunken rocks.

If no one warns us. if it goes out in us

every sterile memory that diminishes or dilutes

this love that saves us beyond the stars,

Let’s not talk now, my goodness. And drag me down

heart of your arms beating under the sky.