The Blue Bird, This is the English translation of the Poem written by Ruben Dario call "El Pajaro Azul" (The Blue Bird), I been working on the translation of this beautiful story, always trying to get the most accurate version of the story.
here it is, please enjoy and leave your comments.
The Blue Bird.
Translated
by Jose Hidalgo.
Paris, amusing and terrible stage. Among the busy
“Café Plombier”, good and purposeful boys – painters, sculptors, poets – yes, everyone
looks for the old green laurel! None more beloved, that the poor Garcin, almost
always sad, good drinker of absinth, dreamer that never gets drunk, and, an
unexceptionable bohemian, Fine Improviser.
In the impaired
room of our happy meetings, the chalk of the walls kept, among the sketches and
lines of future clays, verses, whole stanzas written in toss and gross letters
of our beloved Blue Bird.
The Blue bird was
the poor Garzin. Do you know why he was called that? We baptized him with that
name.
That was not
because our vagary. That excellent boy had a sad gaze. When we asked him why
when all of us laughed as fools, he with a glowering glance at the roof, would
answer with a bittersweet smile…
-Friends: I want
you to know that I have a blue bird on my brain, therefore….
***
It’d
happen that he liked to go to the Countryside at the beginning of spring. The
air of the forest did well to his lungs, as the poet said.
From
his excursions he used to bring branches of violets and thick booklet of
madrigal, written at the sound of the leaves and under the wide and cloudless
sky. The violets were for Nini, his Neighbor, a nice and pretty lady that had
such blue eyes.
The
verses were for us. We’d read them and applaud them. We all had praise for
Garcin. He was a genius that must shine.
Time would come. Oh, The blue bird would flight so High.
