06 june 2003
La Palabra/A Fable
Copyright 1996 by Angela Allyn / Spanish translation by Shifra Trinidad
Originally performed as a movement theatre
work by the Abiogenesis Movement Ensemble
at the Around the Coyote Festival.
Era una epoca como esta/Y habia gente
como nosotros/Un lugar, muy parecido a este/Y
esta es la historia.
It was a time, like this one/And there
were people, like us/A place, much like
here/And this is the story.
In the beginning was the word
Al principio habia la palabra/Y La palabra
dio vida a la comunidad
And the word gave life to the community/Words
gave wings to dreams that flew between lovers/Words
were links in the necklace that is family/Words
were the visions that are the hopes of youth/Words
were the fading memories of the aged/Like
carpets and coverlets, words enfolded families
and extended families and whole towns and
countries and at last all peoples
Las palabras era eslabones en las cadenas
que unian a las familias, los cuidades,
al los pueblos, y a for fin, a todo el mundo.
The first words were pictures, and then
came poetry.
Las primeras palabras eran imagines,
y despues vino la poesia.
Words were as fruitful as the people that
passed them, like bread, between each other.
Las palabras crecieron y se multiplicaron,
como las personas que se pasaban de unas
y otras.
Words were passed from tongue to ear/From
hands to eyes/And hands to hands/A woman
looked after all the words./She was a mother,
not a witch really, but a person.
A las palabras las cuidaba una mujer.
She looked after each word. She made certain
that it was cleaned and repaired after use/And
noted in the dictionary/She comforted lost
words and matched them to people looking
for the right thing to say. She watched
over translations that they not lose their
way.
La Mujer cuidaba a cada palabra./Las
reparaba/Y anotaba en un diccionario/Las
confortaba/Vigilaba las traducciones para
que fuesen veraces/Y pronto/Y pronto/No
todas las plabras fueron buenas palabras
As time passed not all the words were good.
Some spoke of pain and loss.
Las palabras de dolor y de perdida
Words began to be hurled instead of passed./Words
built walls between peoples./Words became
exclusive clubs that locked others out./Words
were chained to make treaties and contracts
that lied./Then, words became bombs to start
wars.
Se volvieron las palabras en bombas para
empezar guerras.
The woman cared about the words she looked
after. And she cared even more about the
people. She saw the pain and suffering as
people twisted words into whips which cut
deeply. She saw how words became cages How
words became poisonous lies.
A la mujer le importaban las palabras,
y aun mas la gente.
She saw how language which had been given
as the greatest gift,/ Greater than fire/Greater
than faith/Greater than hope/She saw how
language/Which allowed one person to reach
out /Of the prison of solitude and loneliness/To
connect with another person/Became a noose/Which
choked the life out of happiness.
Vio como el lenguaje Que era el mayor
de los dones Se convertia el asesino de
la felicidad.
The woman said NO!
No puede ser
This must not be./And she gathered every
last word/From all of the four corners of
the earth/And she sealed them into a great
box. The world was silent.
El mundo estabo en silencio.
Because words were songs, there was no
music/Because words were pictures, there
was no poetry/Because words were connections
between peoples/Everyone was lonely for
a time
No habia musica./No habia poesia./No
habian connecciones entre la gente y todo
el mundo estaba solo.
Because the silence was so incredibly sad
and lonely, the woman had pity upon the
people and their isolation. She opened the
box a small crack ad let only the facts
out.
A la mujer le dio pena tata soledad y
decidio soltar el lenguaje de los hechos
solamente.
She said: It was metaphor and allegory
that lead you astray. If you stick to
the
facts then you can only give truth to one
another. And so the people could pass
numbers
and verified statistics back and forth
to communicate. Lovers would tell each
other
of body temperatures in Celsius degrees
and heartbeats per minute.
Los amantes
se hablan de grados y pulsos.
Families spoke of daily lists.
La familias
reportaban los hechos del dia
Youths could report on preparations for
future life in statistics and probabilities.
Los jovenes explicaban sus preparations
para el futuro
The old fell silent since they could not
always remember the facts and dare not
dither
their memories.
Los viejos no decian
nada, pues nada recordaban de los hechos.
Something was not working. All the people
gathered. They decided to petition the
woman
to release poetry and metaphor from the
great box. They were penitent and resolved
to punish anyone who misused language in
the future.
La gente decidio acudir
como peregrinos a la mujer. Primero fueron
los enamorados.
And so, like pilgrims, they made their
way to the woman to plead their case. First
the lovers said: Oh great woman, release
the language of love. Our passion is cooled
if we cannot communicate The desires of
our hearts—the language of emotion
is not facts, but poems. Without the language
of love, there will soon be few lovers,
for love must be fed a daily diet of beauty.
To love is to be human.
Sin el romantico language del amor pronto
habran pocos enamorados y habremos perdido
una importante parte de nuestra humanidad.
Ah, the woman was moved. She had known
the flowered words of love once and she
knew No greater power moves earth and sky
than the love of two people—Entire
worlds are built upon the pledges of lovers.
But she also knew that hearts could be crushed
and broken, left bleeding beneath the stomp
of a lying lover's insincere words. Broken
pledges of love had occasioned great and
terrible wars. No, she said. Go home. If
your love is true, you will find ways to
speak that do not require words at all.
Si vuestro amore s verdadero enancontrares
otras formas de expresarlo.
And so the youth bounded up the path to
the womans door. He said: Oh woman, you
must release the language Of visions, quests
and dreams. Young people must be able to
crusade for the truth Not with mere facts,
but with poetry, song and slogan. Youth
without vision withers on the vine—the
young will lack the fire that moves the
community to a better place.
Necessitamos el lenguaje de las visions,
los suenos y la poesia para motivarnos a
mejorar nuestras comunidades.
The woman remembered her own young life,
full of plans, and she heard the energy
of youth. But she had seen the hatred of
nationalism fueled by this same energy and
had seen the fires of vitriol burn innocent
victims, and she said No, go. Like hermits
you must remain true to your visions without
words. You must lead others to your path
with actions and not rhetoric. Fuel the
fires of your enthusiasm with internal strength
and not lies amplified through machines.
Los jovenes debeis guiaros de nuestra
fuerza interna y no de la vacia retorica.
Ever optimistic, the youth strode off to
follow her advice. The old ones saw that
it was their turn, for the woman was immoveable
in her resolve. An old one with aching joints
slowly moved to the woman's door.
Y vino la anciana
In a rusty voice the ancient one petitioned:
Oh empathetic One, Please unlock the language
of memory. I cannot tell the story of my
life in facts since I do not remember them
so well. I recall the long thread of my
existence in but fleeting images. Without
the language of imagery, I can share no
memories, and my days are dull and without
meaning. Without being able to share my
stories, I merely wait for death as dust
blows through my mind.
Necestamos el lenguaje de los imagines
para nuestras memoriea y recuerdos. Sin
recuerdos no hacemos mas que esperar a la
muerte.
A tear ran down the woman's own cheek and
she reached out to stroke the wizened face.
She said: Oh ancient one, for you alone
I would want to release these words, as
we all grow old and die. But I have seen
so much suffering from abused words that
I must say no to you. Can you not call up
your memories from the sands of time with
sounds and smells? I cannot help you—you
must give this gift of sacrifice to your
descendents.
Por ti quisiera dar libertad al lenguaje
poetico, pero he visto demasiado sufrimiento
y no puedo hacerlo.
As the old one walked back to the place
where the community gathered, all were amazed
to learn of the woman's resolve. Everyone
had tried to change her mind to no avail.
They would have to send the child. It is
for you, they told the child, to plead the
case for future generations.
Y subio el nino.
And so the child wandered up to the woman's
door, getting sidetracked for a while by
picking flowers and looking at a rock. Oh,
Lady. Said the child. Can you open that
box—or I am not going to have a nice
future. Yeah, my days are fun, but its all
facts facts facts with no connections and
they just bounce right out of my head. Why
bother learning anything? My parents got
to learn with stories and stuff—that
sounds better. Who cares about facts anyway?
What is inside that box that's so bad?
Por favor, abre la caja. No puedo memorisar
listas de fechas y hechos. Mis padres aprendieron
con historias y poesias. Por favor, abre
la caja y dejame aprender lo que hay en
ella.
And suddenly the woman saw a premonition,
a horror—a vision of the child disconnected
to the world around him. She saw in an instant
that facts do not bind people into webs
of community. Even twisted words roped people
together. It was true, with the words locked
up, this child would never use them to weave
beautiful lies, but that would be because
he was not interwoven enough with his people
to care about them, to lie to them. She
knew that you can know all the facts of
a people, but until you know their poetry,
you do not know them at all. She saw that
a child with only facts does not have enough
information to know what a lie is, or what
truth is.
Se pueden conocer los hechos concernientes
a un pueblo, pero hasta que no se conoce
su poesia en realidad no se sabe nada en
el.
She said: To teach you right from wrong,
we must connect you and bind you to all
people with songs, poetry and stories that
have been told in families and villages
for thousands of years. You have taught
me a lesson today.
Te ensenaremos a distinguir la verdad
de la mentira. Te uniremos a todas las personas,
y lo haremos por medio de canciones, poesias,
e historias que had sido cantadas y contadas
durante miles de anos.
The woman went to the great box and unwound
the heavy chains. She opened the box.
Abrio la caja. |
