Daniel Frost

Ode to Spain (translation)

In 1898, after defeat in the Spanish-American war, Spain lost the vestiges of an empire that had spanned the globe. It has been said that the loss prompted an inward turn in Spanish letters, a search for the roots of the desastre, or disaster, as the defeat was widely known. Joan Maragall's "Oda a Espanya," written in Catalan in 1898, sees the disaster differently, proclaiming the restorative promise-and decisive power-of Spain's "other" languages.

Listen now, Spain, the voice of a son
who does not speak to you in Castilian;
I speak a language I've inherited
from the rocky earth;
in this language too few have addressed you,
in that one, too many.

Enough about the dead at Sagunto,†
and about men who die for their country;
enamored of glory and remembrance,
the glory and remembrance of the dead,
you have lived sadly.

I want to talk to you another way.
Why have you let so much blood spill in vain?
When it flows in the vessels, blood is life,
life for today, and for others to come;
when spilled, it is death.

You have depended too much on honor,
too little on life:
Tragic, you have given your sons to death.
Only deadly honors have appeased you;
all your festivities have been funerals,
Oh sorrowful Spain!

I have seen ships as they leave the dock full
of sons that you handed over to death:
Smiling they went-to the mercy of fate,
and you stood there on the seashore, singing
like a madwoman.

Where have the ships gone? And where are your sons?
Ask the sunset and the mountainous waves:
You have lost everything, there's no one left.
Wake up, Spain! Spain, come back to your senses!
Put an end to the cries of a mother!

Save yourself! Turn away from your sorrow;
your tears should be of joy, life-giving, alive;
turn your thoughts to the life all around you;
lift your eyes skyward,
smile at the seven colors in the clouds.

Where are you, Spain? You're nowhere to be found.
Can't you hear the thunder in my voice?
Can't you hear this language that in spite of
danger speaks to you?
Do you no longer understand your sons?
Farewell, Spain!

(Translated by Daniel Frost)

               ¤ ¤ ¤

En 1898, tras la derrota en la guerra Hispano-estadounidense, España perdió los vestigios de un imperio que había abarcado medio mundo. Se ha dicho que los eventos provocaron una vuelta al interior en las letras peninsulares, una búsqueda de las raíces del "desastre". "Oda a Espanya", escrita en catalán por Joan Maragall en 1898, ve el desastre de otra forma, proclamando la promesa restauradora-y el poder decisivo-de las "otras" lenguas de España.

ODA A ESPANYA
Joan Maragall

Escolta, Espanya, - la veu d'un fill
que et parla en llengua - no castellana;
parlo en la llengua - que m'ha donat
la terra aspra:
en'questa llengua - pocs t'han parlat;
en l'altra, massa.

T'han parlat massa - dels saguntins
i dels que per la pàtria moren:
les teves glòries - i els teus records,
records i glòries - només de morts:
has viscut trista.

Jo vull parlar-te - molt altrament.
Per què vessar la sang inútil?
Dins de les venes - vida és la sang,
vida pels d'ara - i pels que vindran:
vessada és morta.

Massa pensaves - en ton honor
i massa poc en el teu viure:
tràgica duies - a morts els fills,
te satisfeies - d'honres mortals,
i eren tes festes - els funerals,
oh trista Espanya!

Jo he vist els barcos - marxar replens
dels fills que duies - a que morissin:
somrients marxaven - cap a l'atzar;
i tu cantaves - vora del mar
com una folla.

On són els barcos? - On són els fills?
Pregunta-ho al Ponent i a l'ona brava:
tot ho perderes, - no tens ningú.
Espanya, Espanya, - retorna en tu,
arrenca el plor de mare!

Salva't, oh!, salva't - de tant de mal;
que el plô et torni feconda, alegre i viva;
pensa en la vida que tens entorn:
aixeca el front,
somriu als set colors que hi ha en els núvols.

On ets, Espanya? - no et veig enlloc.
No sents la meva veu tronadora?
No entens aquesta llengua - que et parla entre perills?
Has desaprès d'entendre als teus fills?
Adéu, Espanya!