Ode to Spain

Another poem I love, also in Catalan.  This time it's by late 19th century poet Joan Maragall (the date here is 1898; it's also written after the standardization of the Catalan language by linguist Pompeu Fabra, and you can compare the orthography to that in "L'Emigrant").  It's a nationalistic piece, written during the Spanish-American War which Catalunya was heavily opposed to, as it perpetuated Spain's imperial dominance, which Catalans felt needed to end (as they consider themselves occupied by Spain).  I just feel that the nationalism here is more "positive" towards Spain in the sense that it doesn't have this sense of antipathy; just more of a "wake up".  But the final stanza...that has to be my favorite in the entire thing.  Very powerful.


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

Massa pensaves en ton honor
i massa poc en el teu viure:
tràgica duies a mort 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 la 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 pló et torni fecunda, 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 atronadora?
No entens aquesta llengua que et parla entre perills?
Has desaprès d'entendre an els teus fills?
Adéu Espanya!



Listen, Spain, to the voice of a son
who speaks to you in a non-Castilian tongue*;
I speak in the language which was given me
by the harsh land:
a language in which few have spoken to you;
in the other, too many.

Too much has been said to you of the Saguntonians
and of those who died for their homeland:
your glories and your memories,
memories and glories solely of the dead:
you have lived sad.

I want to speak to you in another way.
Why spill useless blood?
In veins life is blood,
life for those now and for those yet to come:
is dead when shed.

You thought too much of your honor
and too little in your living:
tragically you brought your sons to death,
you were satisfied with mortal honors,
and funerals were your holidays,
oh sad Spain!

I've seen boats leave full
of the sons you brought to die:
smiling they left towards fate;
and you sang at the shore
like a madwoman.

Where are the boats?  Where are the sons?
Ask the Ponent and the rough wave:
you lost everything, you have no one.
Spain, Spain return to yourself,
the mother's cry breaks out!

Save yourself, oh, save yourself from such evil;
that the tears return to you fertil, happy and alive;
think in the life you have around you:
lift your head,
smile at the seven colors that are in the clouds.

Where are you, Spain?  I see you nowhere.
Don't you hear my booming voice?
Don't you understand this language speaking to you among dangers?
Have you stopped learning from your sons?
Good-bye, Spain!

*I love the usage here of "non-Castilian".  In Spain, the Spanish language is not refered to as "Spanish", but rather "Castilian", the language of Castille, as there are other languages spoken in Spain, which are, of course, "Spanish languages", and "Spanish" as a language for a Spaniard does not exist.