Nuala Ní Chonchúir
Nuala Ní Chonchúir. Nacida el 14 de enero de 1970 en Dublín, Irlanda
Seudónimo Nuala O'Connor
Sitio web
www.nualanichonchuir.com
Bibliografía
Novela
You (2010 as Nuala Ní Chonchúir), ISBN 978-1-84840-063-4
The Closet of Savage Mementos (2014 as Nuala Ní Chonchúir), ISBN 978-1-84840-336-9
Miss Emily (2015 as Nuala O'Connor), ISBN 978-0-14312-675-1
Colecciones de cuentos cortos
The Wind Across the Grass (2004), ISBN 1-903631-46-7
To The World of Men, Welcome (2005), ISBN 1-903631-51-3
Nude (2009), ISBN 978-1-84471-642-5
Mother America (2012) ISBN 978-1-84840-159-4
Of Dublin and Other Fictions Chapbook (2013), ISBN 978-0-9898572-0-8
Colecciones de la poesía
Molly's Daughter (From Divas:new Irish women's writing) (2003), ISBN 1-903631-40-8
Tattoo:Tatú (2007), ISBN 978-1-903631-60-7
Portrait of the Artist With a Red Car (2009), ISBN 978-1-906285-10-4
The Juno Charm (2011), ISBN 978-1-907056-64-2
Translator: Alexander Best | https://zocalopoets.com/page/4/
from: The Juno Charm (2011)
Enojo
La luna está magullada esta noche.
Moreteada y hinchada está – pero
fanfarronea sobre nosotros
y jala júbilo a la rasca.
Luna de sebo, luna electrizante,
ella carga el cielo, y
es un foco descarado por encima de los árboles sazonados de escarcha.
Y aquí abajo, donde añoran nuestros ojos,
nos arrastramos a la iglesia en la plaza, y
hacemos las paces uno al otro – en el canto.
(2011)
Anger
The moon is battered tonight, bruised and swollen,
but she swanks above us, bringing joy to the chill.
Tallow-moon, electric-moon, she shoulders the sky,
a brazen spotlight over trees salted with frost.
And down here, eyes aching, we creep to the church
on the square, make peace with each other in song.
from: The Juno Charm (2011)
The Japanese Madonna
As Madonna of Akita
I was carved
by a Buddhist from
a weeping katsura.
I forsook kimono and zori
for an unpainted robe,
a European chin,
and an aristocrat’s gaze.
I dropped blood-tears,
my sweat stank of roses,
and I warned that fire
would fall from the sky.
In Ballinspittle
I was made of stone;
I just flexed my fingers
and rocked.
The Lunar Spread
On Half Moon Street
we eat Tunisian orange cake,
under a painting of a melon
that spills seeds like love.
Over Notre Dame
the moon is a plate,
tossed by a Greek waiter
from rue Hachette.
Clear of Galway’s rooftops
the full moon
– bald as a skull –
crowns the night.
When she is van Gogh yellow
and mooning above,
we close the shutters
to safely sleep.
(first published in Burning Bush)
Anger
The moon is battered tonight, bruised and swollen,
but she swanks above us, bringing joy to the chill.
Tallow-moon, electric-moon, she shoulders the sky,
a brazen spotlight over trees salted with frost.
And down here, eyes aching, we creep to the church
on the square, make peace with each other in song.
(first published in Southword and subsequently in The Juno Charm, Salmon, 2011)
From: Tattoo : Tatú
TATÚ
Is pailmseist mo chorp
faoi do lámha,
paipír ársa
scrollaithe fút,
ag tnúth le do rian.
Glanaim mo chraiceann,
sciúraim siar é
go pár báiteach
ionas go bpúchfaidh
do lámh mar
dhúch tatuála,
ag líníocht thar
línte dofheicthe
gach fir eile.
Níl faic ach tusa
scrábáilte ar mo chorp.
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway, 2006
ISBN: 9781903631607
TATTOO
My body is a palimpsest
under your hands,
a papyrus scroll
unfurled beneath you,
waiting for your mark.
I clean my skin,
scrape it back to
a pale parchment,
so that your touch
can sink as deep
as the tattooist’s ink,
and leave its tracery
over the erased lines
of other men.
You are all that’s
written on my body.
Translation: 2007, Nuala Ní Chonchúir
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway, 2007, 9781903631607
GNÉAS
Déagóir, a chliabh
le mo dhroim
é croctha orm
Tá a dheartháir
ag léimnigh faoi
scáth tí gloine
Séideann a máthair
ar fheadóg – tá sé
in am dul abhaile
Scaoileann sé mé
deineann siad gáire,
tá mé faoi chrith, soar
˚
Bolgann tú
an veilbhit fhillte
atá ceartlár ionam
Ag tochailt do theanga
trí línte lachtacha
go mbláthaím
Is fáilte iad mo
dhroim lúbtha agus
mo mhéara a fhuineann
Nuair a scaoileann tú mé
deineann muid gáire, is
tá mé faoi chrith, saor
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway, 2007
ISBN: 9781903631607
SEX
An older boy
his front to my back
hooked around me
His brother nearby
leaping in the shadow
of a glasshouse
Their mother blows
long on a whistle
the signal for home
He unpins me
both laugh in my face
I wobble, free
˚
You lap through
the cleated velvet
at my core
Burrowing your tongue
along milky lines
and I blossom
My arcing back
and kneading fingers
are your welcome
When you unpin me
we laugh together
I wobble, free
Translation: 2007, Nuala Ní Chonchúir
From: Tattoo : Tatú
Publisher: Arlen House, Galway, 2007, 9781903631607
.