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Río Turbio
Mientras miraba
un río en una película
pensaba en todo
lo que se ha ido
como el agua
Todo huía con el río,
El mundo era
una flor pasajera,
una flecha
que borraba
la calidez del instante
en que un gato aparece
Busqué en la memoria
un río de mi infancia
el río de mi mamá
“El río turbio”,
de su pueblo
en Venezuela.
Me detuve ante
el silencio de tanta lejanía
de mi país borrándose
y de ese río turbio de mis tías,
turbio como mis ojos
en estos días
sin lentes
y sin optometrista
~~~~
Río Turbio
While I watched
a river in a film
I thought about everything
that has gone
like the water
everything was fleeing with the river
the world was
an ephemeral flower
an arrow
that erased
the warmth of the moment
when a cat appears
I searched in memory
for a river from my childhood
my mother’s river
‘the muddy river’
in her village
in Venezuela.
I stopped in front of
the silence of all that distance
of my country being erased
and of my aunts’ muddy river
muddy like my eyes
these days
without glasses
and without an optometrist.
~~~~~
Nidia Hernández was born in Venezuela, and has been living in the US since 2018. She is a poet and translator of Portuguese poetry, an editor, broadcaster, and radio producer, and a poetry curator. Nidia directs the editorial project lamajadesnuda.com, which won the 2011 WSA prize for Cultural Heritage. She curates Poesiaudio (Arrowsmith Press) and is a contributor for Mercurius Magazine. She has presented works drawn from the 31 years of her radio program (also called La maja desnuda) which has more than 1,560 broadcasts. Currently, she is broadcasting the program through UPV Radio 102.5 FM in Valencia, Spain.

Copyright 2024 Nidia Hernández. Translation copyright Rowena Hill. From The Farewell Light (2024, Arrowsmith)
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“I stopped in front of
the silence of all that distance
of my country being erased” Oh!
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Beautiful in two languages
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Yes it is.
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And a shout out to Rowena Hill, for a clean and crisp translation. She left the title Rio Turbio, but translated it in the poem as the muddy river.
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Yes, it is a good translation.
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Very Timely. Our Rio Turbio is called the “French Broad” the title and subject of her famous book of which Wilma Dykeman, when she spoke with someone about publishing they replied: The French who? When you drive through Western North Carolina and Tennessee, you come to believe that river goes everywhere as you cross and recross it seemingly hundreds of times.
It is easy to follow the lines of this beautifully painful poem to its destination of loss and reflect upon recent events. Never would I have guessed as has happened, everywhere, There would be so much to lose.
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Well-said, my friend.
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