Song of Evils
Translation by Brittany Hause of Ricardo Jaimes Freyre’s “El canto del mal”
Loki sings in the shadowed wastes
and wisps of blood are wound through Loki’s song.
The Shepherd sets his huge ice-flock to graze,
and the flock—shuddering giants—obeys the Shepherd’s
voice.
Loki sings to the icy gales that pass,
and wisps of blood are wound through Loki’s song.
Dense fog hangs overhead. Waves break themselves
in muted clamor on the scarp. A ship surges
on the ocean’s dismal back, wild and free
like the fierce red-headed warrior at its helm.
Loki sings to the roaring waves that pass,
and wisps of blood are wound through Loki’s song.
When iron’s anthem rises toward the sky
to be answered by the sounds of dark disturbance,
and the wretch consigned to the sacred depths of the
pit
reaches with stiff, entreating arms for the God’s
sheltering shade,
Loki sings to pale Death that passes,
and wisps of blood are wound through Loki’s song.
El canto del mal
By Ricardo Jaimes Freyre
Canta Lok en la
obscura región desolada,
y hay vapores de
sangre en el canto de Lok.
El Pastor
apacienta su enorme rebaño de hielo,
que obedece
—gigantes que tiemblan— la voz del Pastor.
Canta Lok a los
vientos helados que pasan,
y hay vapores de
sangre en el canto de Lok.
Densa bruma se
cierne. Las olas se rompen
en las rocas
abruptas, con sordo fragor.
En su dorso
sombrío se mece la barca salvaje
del guerrero de
rojos cabellos, huraño y feroz.
Canta Lok a las
olas rugientes que pasan,
y hay vapores de
sangre en el canto de Lok.
Cuando el himno
del hierro se eleva al espacio
y a sus ecos
responde siniestro clamor,
y en el foso,
sagrado y profundo, la víctima busca,
con sus rígidos
brazos tendidos, la sombra del Dios,
canta Lok a la
pálida Muerte que pasa
y hay vapores de
sangre en el canto de Lok.
The Heroes
Translation by Brittany Hause of Ricardo Jaimes
Freyre’s “Los héroes”
Stirred up by a
burning thirst for blood,
the Barbarian
sinks his spur into his steed
and, in the thick
of battle, hurls his bleak
and haunting war
cry through the air.
Half-naked,
drenched in sweat, littered with wounds,
his brain pulses
with ferocious joy
as with his shield
he deals the final blow
to an enemy
staggered by fear and pain.
A strange radiance
suddenly blooms into being
and a rolling sea
of purple flames washes
over the murky
line of the horizon;
scattered among
glowing crimson lights,
broad torsos,
bloodied eyes, and heads
of coarse blond
hair are thrown into relief.
Los héroes
By Ricardo Jaimes
Freyre
Por sanguinario ardor estremecido,
hundiendo en su corcel el acicate,
lanza el Bárbaro en medio del combate
su pavoroso y lúgubre alarido.
Semidesnudo, sudoroso, herido,
de intenso gozo su cerebro late,
y con su escudo al enemigo abate,
ya del espanto y del dolor vencido.
Surge de pronto claridad extraña,
y el horizonte tenebroso baña
un mar de fuego de purpúreas ondas,
y se destacan, entre lampos rojos,
los anchos pechos, los sangrientos ojos
y las hirsutas cabelleras blondas.
The Hero’s Death
Translation by Brittany Hause of Ricardo Jaimes Freyre’s “La muerte del héroe”
Even now, he holds
himself upright and with jerking movements
brandishes his
sword; his ruined chest is hidden by a scored
shield, tinted
red; he drops his gaze into the endless dark
and the rough,
heroic song expires on his failing lips.
Silently and from
a distance, the two Ravens watch the warrior
convulse, and they
extend their murky wings in his direction.
To the warrior’s
eyes, their wings’ dark night shines like the day.
Unhurried, they
take flight together for the pale horizon.
La muerte del héroe
By Ricardo Jaimes Freyre
Aún se estremece y se yergue y amenaza con su espada,
cubre el pecho destrozado su rojo y mellado escudo,
hunde en la sombra infinita su mirada
y en sus labios expirantes cesa el canto heroico y
rudo.
Los dos Cuervos silenciosos ven de lejos su agonía
y al guerrero las sombrías alas tienden,
y la noche de sus alas, a los ojos del guerrero,
resplandece como el día,
y hacia el pálido horizonte reposado vuelo emprenden.
The Sword
Translation by Brittany Hause of Ricardo Jaimes
Freyre’s “La espada”
When the soldier’s
sword, broken and blood-spattered,
is bathed in light
tossed from the blazing War Horse’s red mane,
it lies dust-coated,
like a toppled idol,
like an old God
that the hills have swallowed whole.
La espada
By Ricardo Jaimes
Freyre
La rota, sangrienta espada del soldado,
cuando el Corcel luminoso con su roja crin la baña,
cubierta de polvo yace, como un ídolo humillado,
como un viejo Dios, hundido en la montaña.
Valhalla
Translation by Brittany Hause
of Ricardo Jaimes Freyre’s “El Walhalla”
The crimson anthem thrums. Shields and spears
reverberate in lingering, portentous din.
Purple rivers bubble from the open mouths
of bloody wounds.
There is kissing and laughter.
And there is a skull
brimming with mead that serves to quench
the fevered thirst of the dead warriors.
El Walhalla
By Ricardo Jaimes Freyre
Vibra el himno rojo. Chocan los escudos y las lanzas
con largo fragor siniestro.
De las heridas sangrientas por la abierta boca brotan
ríos purpúreos.
Hay besos y risas.
Y un cráneo lleno
de hidromiel, en donde apagan,
abrasados por la
fiebre, su sed los guerreros muertos.
Brittany Hause spent most of their life in Bolivia, but currently resides in the UK. Their original poetry has appeared in Asimov's Science Fiction, Kaleidotrope, and many other places, and their Spanish-to-English verse translations can be read in Better Than Starbucks, Star*Line, and elsewhere.
Jaimes Freyre - Bolivian poet, diplomat, and educator Ricardo Jaimes Freyre (ca. 1868-1933) was born in Peru. He spent a considerable portion of his life in Argentina, taking on a prominent role in the modernist literary movement active in Buenos Aires at the turn of the century both by editing contemporaries’ experimental verse and by publishing reams of his own poetry.
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