lunes, 26 de agosto de 2013

JUDITH WRIGHT [10.381] Poeta de Australia


Judith Wright 
Judith Arundell Wright (31 mayo 1915 a 25 junio 2000) fue una poeta australiana, ecologista y defensora de los derechos territoriales de los aborígenes . 

Judith Wright nació en Armidale, Nueva Gales del Sur, Australia, hija mayor de Phillip Wright y su primera esposa Ethel, pero pasó la mayor parte de sus años formativos en Brisbane y Sydney. 
Empezó a perder la audición a mediados de los años 20, y se convirtió en completamente sordo en 1992. 

Bibliografía:

Poesía:

The Moving Image , 1946; The Meanjin Press, 1953
Woman to Man (1949)
Woman to Child (1949)
The Gateway (1953)
Hunting Snake
The Two Fires (1955)
Australian Bird Poems (1961)
Birds: Poems , Angus and Robertson, 1962; Birds: Poems . National Library Australia. 2003. ISBN 978-0-642-10774-9 . 
Five Senses: Selected Poems (1963)
Selected Poems (1963)
Tentacles: A tribute to those lovely things (1964)
Sportsfield
City Sunrise (1964)
The Other Half (1966)
Alive: Poems 1971-72 (1973)
Fourth Quarter and Other Poems (1976)
Train Journey (1978)
The Double Tree: Selected Poems 1942-76 (1978)
Phantom Dwelling (1985)
A Human Pattern: Selected Poems (1990) ISBN 1-875892-17-6
The Flame Tree (1993)
Bullocky
Collected poems, 1942-1985 , Angus & Robertson, 1994, ISBN 978-0-207-18135-1

Crítica:

William Baylebridge and the modern problem (Canberra University College, 1955)
Charles Harpur (1963)
Preoccupations in Australian Poetry (1965)
Henry Lawson (1967)
Collected Poems (1971)
Because I was Invited (1975)
Going on Talking (1991) ISBN 0-947333-43-6

Otras Obras:

The Generations of Men (1959) ISBN 1-875892-16-8
Range the Mountains High (1962)
The Battle of the Biosphere ('Outlook' Magazine article 1970) http://bushwalk.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=11053&sid=d938c6b9001459eaa87fa60fb5bc7fc4
The Coral Battleground (1977)
The Cry for the Dead (1981)
We Call for a Treaty (1985)
Born of the Conquerors: Selected Essays . Aboriginal Studies Press. 1991. ISBN 978-0-85575-217-0 .
Half a Lifetime (Text, 2001) ISBN 1-876485-78-7 Review

Cartas:

The Equal Heart and Mind: Letters between Judith Wright and Jack McKinney . Edited by Patricia Clarke and Meredith McKinney (UQP, 2004) ISBN 0-7022-3441-9
With Love and Fury: Selected letters of Judith Wright , edited by Patricia Clarke and Meredith McKinney ( National Library of Australia , 2006) ISBN 978-0-642-27625-4
Portrait of a friendship: the letters of Barbara Blackman and Judith Wright, 1950-2000 , edited by Bryony Cosgrove (Miegunyah Press, 2007) ISBN 978-0-522-85355-1 , ISBN 0-


Mujer a Niña

Eras oscuridad y calentaste mi carne
donde de la oscuridad surgió la semilla.
Y todo un mundo hice en mí;
todo el mundo que oís y ves
pendía de mi sangre que soñaba.

Ahí se movían las multitudes de estrellas,
y pájaros y peces de colores se movían.
Ahí nadaban los continentes deslizantes.
Todo el tiempo estaba enrollado en mí, y el sentido,
y el amor que no conocía a su ser amado.

Oh nodo y foco del mundo;
te contengo en lo profundo de ese pozo
del que escaparás y no escaparás-- 
que sigue reflejando tu forma durmiente;
que sigue nutriendo tu célula creciente.

Me marchito y te soltás de mí;
y aunque bailás en la luz viva
yo soy la tierra, yo soy la raíz,
yo soy el tallo que alimentó la fruta,
el eslabón que te une a la noche.


Woman To Child 

You who were darkness warmed my flesh 
where out of darkness rose the seed. 
Then all a world I made in me; 
all the world you hear and see 
hung upon my dreaming blood. 

There moved the multitudinous stars, 
and coloured birds and fishes moved. 
There swam the sliding continents. 
All time lay rolled in me, and sense, 
and love that knew not its beloved. 

O node and focus of the world; 
I hold you deep within that well 
you shall escape and not escape-- 
that mirrors still your sleeping shape; 
that nurtures still your crescent cell. 

I wither and you break from me; 
yet though you dance in living light 
I am the earth, I am the root, 
I am the stem that fed the fruit, 
the link that joins you to the night. 

en The Penguin Book of Women Poets, edited by Carol Cosman, 
Joan Keefe and Kathleen Weaver, Penguin Books, 1978, pp. 379-380

http://mitakuyeoyasinn.blogspot.com.es/



La compañía de amantes

Nos reunimos y separamos ahora por todo el mundo;
nosotros, la compañía perdida,
tenemos las manos juntas en la noche, olvida
la noche en nuestra breve felicidad, silenciosamente.
Nosotros, que buscábamos tantas cosas, lo arrojamos todo
por esta única cosa, una sola,
recordando que en la tumba estrecha
estaremos solos.

La muerte forma ahora a sus tropas en torno a nosotros;
sus pasos se agolpan demasiado cerca.
Deja tu mano caliente sobre el corazón helado
y por un tiempo yo viviré sin mi miedo.
Tantea en la noche para encontrarme y abrázame,
porque el oscuro preludio de tambores comienza,
y en torno a nosotros, en torno a la compañía de amantes,

la muerte cierra sus filas.



The Company Of Lovers  
   
We meet and part now over all the world;
we, the lost company,
take hands together in the night, forget
the night in our brief happiness, silently.
We, who sought many things, throw all away
for this one thing, one only,
remembering that in the narrow grave
we shall be lonely.

Death marshals up his armies round us now.
Their footsteps crowd too near.
Lock your warm hand above the chilling heart
and for a time I live without my fear.
Grope in the night to find me and embrace,
for the dark preludes of the drums begin,
and round us round the company of lovers,
death draws his cordons in.




All things conspire

All things conspire to hold me from you –
even my love,
since that would mask you and unname you
till merely woman and man we live.
All men wear arms against the rebel –
and they are wise,
since the sound world they know and stable
is eaten away by lovers’ eyes.
All things conspire to stand between us –
even you and I,
who still command us, still unjoin us,
and drive us forward till we die.
Not till those fiery ghosts are laid
shall we be one.
Till then, they whet our double blade
and use the turning world for stone.



Legend

The blacksmith's boy went out with a rifle
and a black dog running behind.
Cobwebs snatched at his feet,
rivers hindered him,
thorn branches caught at his eyes to make him blind
and the sky turned into an unlucky opal,
but he didn't mind.
I can break branches, I can swim rivers, I can stare out 
any spider I meet,
said he to his dog and his rifle.

The blacksmith's boy went over the paddocks
with his old black hat on his head.
Mountains jumped in his way,
rocks rolled down on him,
and the old crow cried, You'll soon be dead.
And the rain came down like mattocks.
But he only said,
I can climb mountains, I can dodge rocks, I can shoot an old crow any day,
and he went on over the paddocks.

When he came to the end of the day, the sun began falling,
Up came the night ready to swallow him,
like the barrel of a gun,
like an old black hat,
like a black dog hungry to follow him.
Then the pigeon, the magpie and the dove began wailing
and the grass lay down to pillow him.
His rifle broke, his hat blew away and his dog was gone and the sun was falling.

But in front of the night, the rainbow stood on the mountain,
just as his heart foretold.
He ran like a hare, 
he climbed like a fox;
he caught it in his hands, the colours and the cold - 
like a bar of ice, like the column of a fountain,
like a ring of gold.
The pigeon, the magpie and the dove flew up to stare,
and the grass stood up again on the mountain.

The blacksmith's boy hung the rainbow on his shoulder
instead of his broken gun.
Lizards ran out to see, snakes made way for him,
and the rainbow shone as brightly as the sun.
All the world said, Nobody is braver, nobody is bolder,
nobody else has done
anything equal to it. He went home as easy as could be
with the swinging rainbow on his shoulder. 


Naked Girl And Mirror

This is not I. I had no body once-
only what served my need to laugh and run
and stare at stars and tentatively dance
on the fringe of foam and wave and sand and sun.
Eyes loved, hands reached for me, but I was gone
on my own currents, quicksilver, thistledown.
Can I be trapped at last in that soft face?

I stare at you in fear, dark brimming eyes.
Why do you watch me with that immoderate plea-
'Look under these curled lashes, recognize
that you were always here; know me-be me.'
Smooth once-hermaphrodite shoulders, too tenderly
your long slope runs, above those sudden shy
curves furred with light that spring below your space.

No, I have been betrayed. If I had known
that this girl waited between a year and a year,
I'd not have chosen her bough to dance upon.
Betrayed, by that little darkness here, and here
this swelling softness and that frightened stare
from eyes I will not answer; shut out here
from my own self, by its new body's grace-

for I am betrayed by someone lovely. Yes,
I see you are lovely, hateful naked girl.
Your lips in the mirror tremble as I refuse
to know or claim you. Let me go-let me be gone.
You are half of some other who may never come.
Why should I tend you? You are not my own;
you seek that other-he will be your home.

Yet I pity your eyes in the mirror, misted with tears;
I lean to your kiss. I must serve you; I will obey.
Some day we may love. I may miss your going, some day,
though I shall always resent your dumb and fruitful years.
Your lovers shall learn better, and bitterly too,
if their arrogance dares to think I am part of you. 





.

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario en la entrada