S.J. Pearce
I. Written While Translating Lorca’s
“Juan Ramón Jiménez”
Nardo/Seaweed
I know few words for seaweed:
kelp, seaweed, and little else.
Living with it, all I need
is deixis and description:
Look at that kind of kelp
and that kind of kelp,
the ropey kind with bulbs,
the kind with flat, broad leaves,
the yellowish, fungus-like kelp, and
the kind that might be a jellyfish.
Kombu, nori, salicornia, but
I have no taste for a salad of sea.
In Spanish, just one word—algas—
I learned cooking, not beachcombing.
Lorca’s nardo, then,
I meet first in a book
and we dance with its leaves
wrapped around my legs.
My shame is not knowing
the names of these things;
and I am one who loves the sea.
Juan Ramón Jiménez
Here, Saint Jerome.
Here, Juan Ramón.
Salt and seaweed,
white and green
Paloma, paloma, paloma
Pigeon, popping corn, dove
Paloma, paloma, paloma
Green, white, in-finite
Paloma, paloma, paloma
Sing: cucurru, pop!
Lorca writes: verde
que te quiero verde.
Spicer translates: verde
que te quiero verde.
Not Sam, green eggs and ham
but huevos verdes con jamón
Here, Juan Ramón.
Here, Saint Jerome.