Tags
Armenian translation, art, Federico Garcia Lorca, Ֆեդերիկո Գարսիա Լորկա, Spanish translation, Yo Me Muero
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YO ME MUERO
by Federico Garcia Lorca
(Ֆեդերիկո Գարսիա Լորկա)
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Amigos, yo me muero.
Amigos, ya estoy muy malo.
Tres pañuelos tengo dentro de mí
y este que meto son cuatro.
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Friends, I am dying.
Friends, it is very bad.
There are three scarves pressed inside me
and now there are four.
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Բարեկամներ, ես մեռնում.
Բարեկամներ, որ ցավում է, շատ վատ է.
Երեք շարֆեր են ներսում առկա են
եւ հիմա կան չորս.
memories of my ghost sista 
More wonderful work. It must be a whole different process to find and manipulate images and then form the writing around them than starting with the story and going out to get the photos to add to the writing. It’s a subtle difference, and it may not be all that I’m thinking it is, but I am opinionated and shallow first, and a thinker and realizer second. With my posts I always have my WTF was I thinking moments the next day and want to re-write the whole thing, if not dispose of it in someone else’s trash bin.
Later….
Oh, I totally understand what you mean. Especially after some time has gone by and the thrill of creating something has passed. Then I more often than not just groan when I re-read posts. Sort of like drinker’s remorse (poet’s remorse?) the next morning.
Too funny. I’ve had some drunken adventures that seemed like works of artistic genius at the time. Then I wake up to try and figure how to get my car out of a lake, or live with some disease or mangled body part.
Ohhhhhhh… Writer’s Remorse…more alliterative than Poet’s Remorse, but which is more common is gauged by how many words used.
Later…
remember, it’s not the size of the words, it’s how you use them that — er, um, never mind (some metaphors should be clipped in the bud, as they say) then again, speaking of next morning remorse, I am always amazed at how many things I thought I had deleted over the years get hidden away on the Internet, only to turn up later causing embarrassing shenanigans (I always wanted to use that word in something). Language might be a virus but it’s a virus we have no way of eradicating.
I’m doing a post on a Portland artist, Mona Superhero who works in Duck Tape. She is also into erotica, and you might be as amazed as I am by her work. It will be up soon…I’m searching out a couple of examples of art right now so I can get it posted and go to the beach to see some friends before they go home to Calgary after six weeks here…should get some photos of true sorrow out of that.
Later…
Thank you! I am always happy to meet new artists, if you can post a link to her I’ll go and read right away. The Internet gets a bad rap in many ways but the doors its opened for me in discovering new art was probably only achievable in previous generations by a handful of social butterflies in NYC. Now it’s the opposite: I stay at home and the art comes to me.
WordPress dropped the post while I was editing…link disappered. You can go to monasuperhero.com and see her newest work, and she’s got many sites easily found using Mona Superhero, Portland, Duck Tape art. She still baffles me, a simple person who never thinks about simple things like Duck Tape, found art, junk metal, etc. as artistic. Neanderthal Association of Literary Meddlers her I come.
Later…