Texts and Translations

Chôros No. 10 for Chorus and Orchestra

Se tu queres ver a immensidão do çéo
e mar reflectindóa prismatisaçao da luz solar,
rasga o coração, vem te debruçar sobre
a vastidão do meu penar.

Sorve todo o olor que anda a recender
pelas espinhosas floranções do meu
soffrer. Vêse podes ler nas suas pulsações
as brancas illuzões e o que elle diz
no seu gemer; e que nao.

Pode a ti dizer nas palpitações! Ou
veo brandamenta docemente palpitar.
Casto e purpural n’um threno vesperal
mais puro que uma candida vestal!

Rasga o que has de ver la:
dentro a dôr a soluçar:
sob o peso deuma cruz de lagrimas, chorar;
anjos a cantar préces divinaes.
Deos a rythimar seus pobres, ais!

Rasga que has de ver.



If you want to see the immensity of the
sky and sea reflected like a prism of sunlight,
tear open your heart, come and bow
yourself to the vastness of my pain.

Especially above all, be aware of the odor
that accompanies the thorny flowers
of my suffering. See if you can read in your pulsations
the white, pure illusions and that which
they say to you in your soft groaning; and that now.

Can it say it to you, your heartbeat! Or
I see softly, sweetly, my heart beating.
Chaste and purple in a twilight thought
more pure than a heavenly picture.

Open up to see what you have to see:
inside the pain is the solution:
under the weight of a cross of tears, weeping;
angels singing little divine songs.
God has given rhythm to his poor ones, alas!

Open up to what you must see.

Cantata Criolla: Florentino, el cantó con el Diablo

El Reto

El coplero Florentino
por el ancho terraplén
caminos del Desamparo
desanda a golpe de seis.

El coplero Florentino ...

Puntero en la soledad
que enlutan llamas de ayer,
macolla de tierra errante
le nace bajo el corcel.
Ojo ciego el lagunazo
sin garza, junco ni grey,
dura cuenca enterronada
donde el casco de traspié.
Los escuálidos espinos
desnudan su amarillez,
las chicharras atolondran
el cenizo anochecer.
Parece que para el mundo
la palma sin un vaivén.

El coplero solitario
vive su grave altivez
de ir caminando el erial
como quien pisa vergel.
En el caño de Las Animas
se para muerto de sed
y en las patas del castaño
ve lo claro del jagüey.

El cacho de beber tira,
en agua lo oye caer;
cuando lo va levantando
se le salpican los pies
pero del cuemo vacío
ni gota pudo beber.
Vuelve a tirarlo y salpica
el agua clara otra vez,
mas sólo arena sus ojos
en el turbio fondo ven.

Soplo de quema el suspiro,
paso llano el palafrén,
mirada y rumbo el coplero
pone para su caney,
cuando con trote sombrío
oye un jinete tras él.

Negra se le ve la manta,
negro el caballo también;
bajo el negro pelo-e-guama
la cara no se le ve.
Pasa cantando una copla
sin la mirada volver:

— Amigo, por si se atreve,
aguárdeme en Santa Inés,
que yo lo voy a buscar
para cantar con usté.

Mala sombra del espanto
cruza por el terraplén.
Vaqueros de lejanía
la acompañan en tropel;
la encobijan y la borran
pajas del anochecer.

Florentino taciturno
coge el banco de través.
Puntero en la soledad
que enlutan llamas de ayer
parece que va soñando
con la sabana en la sien.
En un verso largo y hondo
se le estira el tono fiel:

— Sabana, sabana, tierra
que hace sudar y querer,
parada con tanto rumbo
con agua y muerta de sed,
una con mi alma en lo sola,
una con Dios en la fe;
sobre tu pecho desnudo
yo me paro a responder:
sepa el cantador sombrío
que yo cumplo con mi ley
y como canté con todos
tengo que cantar con él.

La Porfía

Noche de fiero chubasco
por la enlutada llanura,
y de encendidas chipolas
que el rancho de peón alumbran.
Adentro suena el capacho,
afuera bate la lluvia;
vena en corazón de cedro
el bordón mana ternura;
no lejos asoma el río
pecho de sabana sucia;
más allá coros errantes,
ventarrón de negra furia;
y mientras teje el joropo
bandoleras amarguras
el rayo a la palmasola
le tira señeras puntas.
Súbito un hombre en la puerta:
indio de grave postura,
ojos negros, pelo negro,
frente de cálida arruga.
Pelo de guama luciente
que con el candil relumbra.

Un golpe de viento guapo
le pone a volar la blusa,
y se le ve jeme y medio
de puñal en la cintura.
Entra callado y se pone
para el lado de la música.
Oiga vale, ese es el Diablo,
— la voz por la sala cruza —.

Mírelo como llegó,
con tanto barrial y lluvia,
planchada y seca la ropa
sin cobija ni montura.
Dicen que pasó temprano
como quien viene de Nutrias,
con un oscuro bonquero
por el paso Las Brujas.
Florentino está silbando
sones de añeja bravura
y su diestra echa a volar
ansias que pisa la zurda
cuando el indio pico de oro
con su canto lo saluda.

El Diablo
Catire quita pesares
contéstame esta pregunta:
¿quién es el que bebe arena
en la noche más oscura?

Florentino
En la noche más oscura
lo malo no es el lanzazo
sino quien no lo retruca.
Tiene que beber arena
el que no bebe agua nunca.

The Devil
El que no bebe agua nunca.
Así cualquiera responde
barajando la pregunta.
¿Quién mata la sed sin agua
en jagüey de arena pura?

Florentino
En jagüey de arena pura,
el médano solitario,
el ánima que lo cruza,
la noche que lo encobija,
el lucero que lo alumbra.
¡Qué culpa tengo señores
si me encuentra el que me busca!

The Devil
Ya que tienes tantas artes
déjeme que se las vea.
Falta un cuarto pa la una
cuando el candil parpadea,
cuando el espanto sin rumbo
con su dolor sabanea,
cuando Florentino calla
y así perdió la pelea,
cuando canta la pavita,
cuando el gallo menudea.

Florentino
Cuando el gallo menudea
la garganta se me afina
y se me aclara la idea.
Yo soy como el espinito
que en la sabana florea:
le doy aroma al que pasa
y espino al que me menea.

The Devil
Espino al que me menea:
¡Ah caramba! yo en quedarme
y usted Catire me arrea.
Mire que estoy remolón
con esta noche tan fea.
Vaya poniéndose alante
pa’que en lo oscuro me vea.

Florentino
Pa’que en lo oscuro me vea.
Amigo no arrime tanto
que el bicho se le chacea.
Atrás y alante es lo mismo
pa’el que no carga manea:
el que va atrás ve p’alante
y el que va alante voltea.

The Devil
El que va alante voltea.
Catire, usté canta mucho
pero quítese esa idea
de que me puede enseñar
como se canta un corrío.
Los perros está aullando
escúcheles los aullíos,
los gallos están cantando,
recuerde lo convenía.

“Zamuros de la barrosa
del Alcornocal del frío
albricias pido señores
que ya Florentino es mío.”

Florentino
Que ya Florentino es mío.
Si usté dice que soy suyo
será que me le he vendío,
si me le vendí me paga
porue yo a nadie le fío.
Yo no soy pájaro bobo
pa’estar calentando nío.

The Devil
Pa’estar calentando nío.
No sé si es pájaro bobo
pero va por un tendío ...
Con el adiós de los gallos
yo cargo con los rendíos
en el anca e’mi caballo
que sabe un trote sombrío.
Y vuelvo a cambiarle el pie
a ver si topa atajo.

Florentino
A ver si topa atajo.
Cuando se fajan me gusta
porque yo también me fajo.

“Zamuros de la barrosa
del Alcornocal de abajo:
ahora verán señores,
al Diablo pasar trabajo.”

Déjenlo que barajuste
que yo en mi rucio lo atajo
déjenlo que pare suertes,
yo sabré si le barajo,
alante el caballo fino,
atrás el burro marrajo.
Antes que toquen la una
se lo lleva quien lo trajo.
¡Quién ha visto doro-doro
cantando con arrendajo!
Si me cambio el consonante
yo se lo puedo cambiar.

The Devil
Yo se lo puedo cambiar.
Los graves y los agudos
a mí lo mismo me dan.
¡Ay! catire Florentino
arrendajo y turupial,
qué largo y solo el camino
que nunca desandará,
con esta noche tan negra
chaparral y chaparral.
No le valió su baquía,
ni lo salvó su cantar.
Catire quita pesares,
arrendajo y turupial.

Florentino
Arrendajo y turupial.
Zamuros de la Barrosa
salgan del Alcornocal
pa’que miren a Mandinga
el brinco que va a pegar:
Sácame de aquí con Dios
Virgen de la Soledá,
Virgen del Carmen bendita,
piadosa Virgen del Real,
tierna Virgen del Socorro,
dulce Virgen de la Paz.
Virgen de la Coromoto,
Virgen de Chiquinquirá,
piadosa Virgen del Valle,
Niño de Atocha bendito,
Santísima Trinidá,
Virgen del Carmen bendita,
Santísima Trinidá.





“The Challenge”

The singer-poet(1) Florentino
by the wide terreplein
towards El Desamparo
travels round about six.

The singer-poet Florentino ...

Riding in the loneliness
blackened by yesterday’s flames,
clusters of flying dust
rise under the horse.
Like a blind eye the pond
without stork, rush or flock,
hard lumped basin
where the hoof stumbles.
The squalid cactus
bares its yellowness,
the harvest fly rattles
the ashy sunset.
It seems to stop the world
the palm tree without its sway.

The lonely poet-singer
carries his deep pride
of walking on unplowed land
as if it were a flower garden.
In the Las Animas ditch
he stops dying of thirst
and by the trunk of the chestnut tree
he sees the glitter of a pond.

He throws the water bottle
and on water he hears it fall;
as he lifts it back towards him
water wets his feet
but from the empty bottle
not one drop could he drink.
He throws it again and splashes
the clear water again,
but only sand his eyes
in the turbid bottom can see.

The breath like a burning gust,
the palfrey at slow pace,
look and bearing the singer-poet
sets toward his cabin,
when with a somber trot
he hears a rider behind him.

Black is his poncho,
black is also his horse;
under his black high-hat
the face cannot be seen.
Rides by singing a couplet
without turning his head:

— Friend, if you dare,
wait for me in Santa Inés,
where I will be looking for you
to sing with you.

Evil shadow of horror
crosses the terraplein.
Remote cowboys
accompany him in a bustle;
he is covered and obscured
by the grass of sunset.

Florentino taciturn
cuts across the plains.
Riding in the loneliness
blackened by yesterday’s flames
he seems to be dreaming
with the savanna at his temple.
In a long and deep verse
his faithful tune stretches:

— Savanna, savanna, land
that makes you sweat and love,
a place with many routes
with water and dying of thirst,
one with my soul in its solitude,
one with God in the Faith;
over your bare chest
I stop to answer:
let the somber singer know
that I abide by my law
and as I have sung with all
I have to sing with him.

“The Duel”

Night of fiery squall
all over the mourning plain,
and of aroused “cipolas”(2)
that light up the laborer’s hut.
Inside the “capacho”(3) sounds,
outside the rain pours;
vein in the heart of cedar
the bass string oozes tenderness;
not far the river appears
breast of dirty savanna;
further away wandering choirs,
wind of black fury;
and while the rhythm weaves
sadness with “bandola”(4)
the lightning to the palm tree
fires solitary rays.
Suddenly a man at the door:
Indian of grave attitude,
black eyes, black hair,
forehead of fiery wrinkle.
Shiny high hat
that glitters under the oil lamp.

A gust of daring wind
blows his shirt open,
and one inch can be seen
of a knife under his belt.
Comes in quietly and goes
to where the music is.
Listen friend, it is the Devil,
— the rumor spreads across the room —.

See how he arrived,
with all the mud and rain,
ironed and dry his clothes
without poncho or mount.
They say he went by earlier
like someone coming from Nutrias,
with a dark boatman
by the Las Brujas pass.
Florentino is whistling
tunes of past bravery
and his right hand sets flying
longing pressed down by his left
when the Indian silver-tonged
with his song salutes him.

“The Devil”
“Catire quita pesares”(5)
answer me this question:
who is he who drinks sand
in the darkest night?

Florentino
In the darkest night
the bad thing is not the attack of the spear
but not to return it.
It must drink sand
he who never drinks water.

The Devil
He who never drinks water.
Anybody can answer
avoiding the question.
Who satiates the thirst without water
in a pond of pure sand?

Florentino
In a pond of pure sand,
the solitary dune,
the soul that crosses it,
the night that shelters it,
the star that lights it.
It is not my fault, gentlemen,
if he who looks for me finds me!

The Devil
Since you have so many skills
allow me to see them.
It is now quarter to one
when the oil lamp quivers,
when the ghost without direction
with its pain scours the plain,
when Florentino stops singing
and so he lost his fight,
when the “pavita”(6) sings,
when the rooster crows.

Florentino
When the rooster crows
my throat gets in tune
and my ideas become clear.
I am like the cactus
that flowers in the plain:
I give perfume to the passer-by
and thorn to the one that shakes me.

The Devil
Thorn to the one that shakes me:
Well, then! I am wanting to stay
and you drive me on.
Can’t you see I am undecided
with this ugly night.
Put yourself ahead
so you can see me in the dark.

Florentino
So you can see me in the dark.
My friend don’t get so close
or your beast will go out of control.
Behind and ahead is the same
if one doesn’t carry a hobble:
the one behind looks ahead
and the one ahead turns his head.

The Devil
The one ahead turns his head.
“My man, you sing quite well
but forget the idea
that you can teach me
how to sing a “corrío.”(7)
The dogs are howling
listen to their howls,
the roosters are crowing,
remember our deal.(8)

“Vultures of ‘La Barrosa’
from ‘Alcornocal del frío,’(9)
congratulations I ask, gentlemen,
for already Florentino is mine.”

Florentino
For already Florentino is mine.
If you say that I am yours
it must be because I sold myself to you,
if I sold myself pay me
because I give credit to no one.
I am not a silly bird
to be warming up the nest.

The Devil
To be warming up the nest.
I don’t know if you are a silly bird
but you got into a long journey ...
With the farewell of the roosters
I take with me the defeated
on the back of my horse
that knows a somber trot.
And I change again the cue
to see if you find the shortcut.

Florentino
To see if you find the shortcut.
When they get involved I like it
for I also get involved.

“Vultures of ‘La Barrosa’
from ‘Alcornocal de abajo’(9):
now you will see, gentlemen,
the Devil having a hard time.”

Let him try to confuse me
I will catch him with my horse
let him try his luck,
I will see if I deal to him,
ahead the fine horse,
behind the cunning donkey.
Before the clock strikes one
he will leave as he came.
Who has seen a “doro-doro”(10)
singing with a mocking-bird!
If he changed the cue for me
I can change it back for him.

The Devil
I can change it back for him.
The bass and the treble
are the same to me.
“Ay! My Florentino”
mocking-bird and troupial,
what a long and lonely road
that you will never retrace,
in this night so black
chaparral and chaparral.
Your skill didn’t help you
nor did your singing save you.
“You who makes others forget sorrows,”
mocking-bird and troupial.

Florentino
Mocking-bird and troupial.
Vultures of “La Barrosa”
come out of “Alcornocal”
so you can see the Devil
the leap he is going to take:
Get me out of here with God
Virgin of la Soledá,
blessed Virgin del Carmen,
pious Virgin del Real,
tender Virgin del Socorro
sweet Virgin de la Paz.
Virgin de la Coromoto,
Virgin de Chiquinquirá,
pious Virgin del Valle,
blessed Niño de Atocha,
Holy Trinity,
blessed Virgin del Carmen,
Holy Trinity.(11)

(1) A “coplero” is a singer capable of improvising “coplas,” or rhymed verses. The first line of the “copla” must be the last one of the other “coplero,” which this way forces the rhyme on his opponent. This type of musical competition is called “contrapunteo” (roughly “counterpointing”) in the Venezuelan plains. The first singer that cannot improvise at once on the cue of the opponent loses.

(2) “Chipolas” are one of the forms of the “joropo,” which is a folk rhythm in fast and syncopated 3/4-6/8 time. “Joropo” is the basic rhythm pattern for the “contrapunteo,” the kind illustrated in this poem.

(3) “Capacho”: maracas

(4) The word “bandoleras” is derived from “bandola,” a stringed instrument of the guitar family used in combination with the harp, the “cuatro” (a small member of the guitar family, with four strings) and the “capacho” to play the “joropo.”

(5) “Catire” is the name given to the people of white or light-brown skin, usually with light-brown hair. “Quita pesares” refers to a person who makes one forget his sorrows (“pesares”).

(6) “Pavita”: a bird

(7) “Corrío”: the musical form for the “contrapunteo”

(8) The deal, according to this type of legend, as in Faust, is that Florentino will go to Hell if he loses to the Devil.

(9) invented places

(10) “Doro-doro”: a common black bird

(11) To beat the Devil by holding him until sunrise, Florentino embarks on a long litany of all the saints and sacred names he can remember.