White Trash White Trash

White Trash

Más extraña que bus en la avenida
voy a pie por la acera de Le Jeune,
holgazana de todo y de ningún
trabajo. Tengo libros y una herida.
 
Más derecha que metro en la salida
serpenteo los autos, como atún
en profundos océanos. Algún
hombre sucio saluda. ¡Bienvenida!
 
Más ardilla que tren en el andén
subo por escalera horizontal
y me caigo de nalgas. Fuck you, tren.
 
Romerillo podrido en lodazal,
hormiguita dormida en su llantén,
​cualquier cosa me sirve y me da igual. 
 

White Trash

More strange than a bus on the avenue
I go on foot along the pavement of Le Jeune,
idling away from all and none of that
work. I have books and a wound.
 
More direct than the departing metro
I snake through cars, like tuna
in deep oceans. Some
dirty man greets me. Welcome!
 
More squirrel than train on the platform
I board a horizontal ladder
and fall on my ass. Fuck you, train.
 
Romarillo rotten in a ditch,
little ant asleep in its weed,
anything will do, it’s all the same to me.
 

White Trash

More strange than bus on the avenue
I go on foot along the pavement of Le Jeune,
lazing around from all and from no
work. I have books and a wound.
 
More right than metro in the exit
I snake the cars, like tuna
in deep oceans. Some
man dirty greets. Welcome!
 
More squirrel than train on the platform
​I get up on staircase horizontal
and fall on backside. Fuck you, train.
 
Romerillo rotten in quagmire,
little ant asleep in its plantain,
whatever thing me serves and me gives same. 
 

This translation began with a discussion of how few people take public transport in Miami as they all have cars. A bus, it was agreed, might be a rare sight, and someone actually walking down a pavement or snaking through the cars ‘like tuna’ even odder.

There were other puzzling cultural references to unpack too. What, for example, was an escalera horizontal? Was it implying the speaker was walking strangely? Was it a train-track? A travelator? Out literal translator Serafina Vick googled it and found the kind of monkey bars you get in a children’s’ playground, so the mystery thickened…

The vegetation also caused confusion, as in the literal the ant was on ‘plantain’, but that suggested fruit rather than the actual non-descript little plant being referred to, so we switched it for ‘weed.’

One thing we could agree on though was profanities – the group decided that in America you wouldn’t fall on your backside or bum or arse, but your ass, and that we thoroughly enjoyed the line: Fuck you, train.

Clare Pollard

Original Poem by

Legna Rodríguez Iglesias

Translated by

Serafina Vick with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Spanish

Country

Cuba