I shall die in Paris, in a rainstorm,
On a day I already remember.
I shall die in Paris— it does not bother me—
Doubtless on a Thursday, like today, in autumn.
It shall be a Thursday, because today, Thursday
As I put down these lines, I have set my shoulders
To the evil. Never like today have I turned,
And headed my whole journey to the ways where I am alone.
César Vallejo is dead. They struck him,
All of them, though he did nothing to them,
They hit him hard with a stick and hard also
With the end of a rope. Witnesses are: the Thursdays,
The shoulder bones, the loneliness, the rain, and the roads…
Notes
translated by Thomas Merton
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Comments
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Supreme
I love the prediction aspect of this poem. Noting that Thomas Merton translated this poem, I was curious to learn how often this poem had been translated. Although I think Merton's is powerful, I think that Karen Brown's version (can find it on: http://userwww.sfsu.edu/~clsa/portals/index2.html--may not need all the extras that come after edu.)a more suitable rendering, plus, her explanations for her renderings just make sense.
I was curious about the title of the poem, and with Brown's commentary I learned the answer. Seems the Peruvian practice of using stones has significance--if a fortunate event=white stone; an unfortunate event=black one.
What is lost in Merton's translation is the singular word road (he uses journey to the ways where...). As Brown points out, road plays a more profound role in the body of the poem. Note that road (Brown's version, stanza 2)is repeated as roads in the last stanza. Poets are so careful with the words they use ( since poetry is the economy of words), leading me to think that Vallejo probably wanted the reader to understand the road/roads shift.
One other difference with Merton's translation is that the poem does not conform to the sonnet format.
This poem pulled me in from beginning to end. The "I will die in Paris" followed by "with the heavy rains"
bombarded my senses--a line so rich with imagery, sound, voice, place. The conclusion "the loneliness, the rain, the roads..." caused me to envision the poet's attempt at resolving his fate.
This poem ranks as one of my new favorites. -
Wow. This "old poetry" is... inspirational, to say the least.
Beautifully written poem. The last stanza was impressive.
<3 - Ali -
I'll take Paris in the rain over and over and over again.
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Comments TRANSFERRED FROM A DELETED COPY OF THIS POEM
Ava Noire on Sep 23, 2003, 12:16
my scream got lost in a paper cup, 15340 critiques. said:
If I could choose my death, I would want to die in the rain as well. Maybe not in Paris -- who knows. I haven't visited her gardens yet.
But the rain...that would be a nice way to exit.
Ava Noire on Nov 10, 2003, 5:38 p.m.
my scream got lost in a paper cup, 15340 critiques. said:
Just back for a reread. This poem provides some good inspiration.
Jack MacIntyre on Nov 21, 2003, 2:12
, 1172 critiques. said:
W O A H, i see why this is so inspirational.. Just the last stanza is pure genious. This old poetry thing is like talking to the dead. It's really.. nice none the less. Tribute to you! sighs i'm inspired i'd say.
thanks for writing!
~ Jack Hertz
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