Grace Malave-Darling
Ay Ay Ay de la Grifa Negra
Ay ay ay, que soy grifa y pura negra;
grifería en mi pelo, cafrería en mis labios;
y mi chata nariz mozambiquea.
Negra de intacto tinte, lloro y río
la vibración de ser estatua negra;
de ser trozo de noche,
en que mis blancos dientes relampaguean;
y ser negro bejuco
que a lo negro se enreda
y comba el negro nido
en que el cuervo se acuesta.
Negro trozo de negro en que me esculpo,
ay ay ay, que mi estatua es toda negra.
Dícenme que mi abuelo fue el esclavo
por quien el amo dio treinta monedas.
Ay ay ay, que el esclavo fue mi abuelo
es mi pena, es mi pena.
Si hubiera sido el amo,
sería mi vergüenza;
que en los hombres, igual que en las naciones,
si el ser el siervo es no tener derechos,
el ser el amo es no tener conciencia.
Ay ay ay, los pecados del rey blanco
lávelos en perdón la reina negra.
Ay ay ay, que la raza se me fuga
y hacia la raza blanca zumba y vuela
hundirse en su agua clara;
tal vez si la blanca se ensombrará en la negra.
Ay ay ay, que mi negra raza huye
y con la blanca corre a ser trigueña;
¡a ser la del futuro,
fraternidad de América!
– Julia de Burgos
Ay ay ay of the Black Grifa
Ay, ay, ay, my kinky hair that showcases my blackness;
kinky hair, vulgar lips
with my flat Mozambique nose.
With the black roots flowing through me, I cry and laugh
whilst containing my black figure.
In the abyss, my white teeth glisten;
To be a black vine
getting trapped in the abyss
and circulating the birds nest
in which the raven lies.
The black clay in which I sculpt myself with,
ay, ay, ay, my figure is black.
The story of how my grandfather was a slave
and purchased for thirty coins still lives on.
Ay, ay, ay, my grandfather was a slave;
it irks me, oh yes, it does.
If the roles had been switched
it would be my shame:
if being the slave is having no rights
being the master is having no conscience.
Ay, ay, ay, cleanse the impurities of the white king
and throne the black Queen.
Ay, ay, ay, my African roots overpowers
this European ruling that has been forced upon us.
Maybe this time,
the white light will be concealed in the black shadow.
–Translated from Spanish by Grace Malave-Darling
Ay ay ay of the Tangled, Kinky Hair
Ay, ay, ay, my black hair is showcased to the world;
my kinky hair, my insolent lips
And my flat east African nose.
My roots flow through me.
I feel joyous yet pitiful.
Through the darkness, my white teeth prosper;
Oh, to be a vine discovering the
world around you
and flow around the birds nest
in which the owl whoos.
I sculpted myself from clay to live in this black body,
ay, ay, ay, my black alchemized body.
My family has a deep but scary history.
They tell me that my grandfather was the slave
for whom the master paid thirty coins;
Our suffering drives deep, oh yes, it does.
If my grandfather had been the master,
My guilt would hold heavy.
if being the slave is having no rights
being the master is having no conscience.
Ay, ay, ay, wash the sins of the white King
in forgiveness black Queen.
Ay, ay, ay, my people will prosper over this false god.
Soon enough,
the white ball will get lost in the black abyss.
–Translated from Spanish by Grace Malave-Darling
Translator’s statement
Julia de Burgos (1914-1953) was a Afro-Puerto Rican poet that was very active in many civil rights movements within Puerto Rico, Cuba, and New York. In one of her poems titled “Rio Grande de Loiza” she expressed the torment and suffering that the native people of Puerto Rico had been facing and the African slaves that had been forcibly put to work near the river.
“De Burgos was an ambitious and brilliant woman who worked diligently on two fronts—to establish herself as a writer of international acclaim and to eradicate injustice. Her feminist politics and her Afro-Caribbean ideas allow us to read her as a precursor to contemporary U.S. Latina/o writers.” (Poetry Foundation)
Going into this project, I thought that it would be easy translating a poem and putting a bit of a twist on it. After learning more about how people translate poems and some of the nuances that follow along with translations, I then knew that this would be harder than expected.
The poem that I had chosen from Julia de Burgos is “Ay, ay, ay, de La Grifa Negra” that was published in 1938 in her first poetry collection called Poema en Veinte Surcos. Within this poem, De Burgos expresses her black identity and showcases some of internal issues that she has to deal with. Before I started translating the poem, I knew that I wanted to stick closely with this theme.
When I had first done a literal translation, I had already faced some problems. The first one being that I didn’t know what “grifa” meant. When I searched it, the results that came up had stated that it meant marijuana or a marijuana addict when referred to someone. I automatically knew that that meaning didn’t fit within the context of the poem so I had to do some more research and it had meant tangled curly/kinky hair. The next issue that I ran into was the poem had originally used the slur kafir, which is an offensive term used towards black women within South Africa. But the original meaning is an Arabic and Islamic term: a person who doesn’t believe in the Islamic gods and denies the beliefs stated within Islam. These people are thought to be against Islam and would be doomed to go to some form of hell. Some of the other ways I saw that it was translated were “vulgar” and “insolent” so I used those two words for my two translations.
Even though there were some things that were difficult within the process, there were also moments that were fun. When I was trying to add my own twist to the two translations, I found that it was entertaining trying to come up with different ways of expressing certain ideas. For example, in my literal translation, it states “a chunk of night, in which my white / teeth are lightning; / and to be a black vine / tangled up in the black / and curving the black nest / in which the raven lies. / Black chunk of black in which I sculpt myself, / ay, ay, ay, my statue is all black,” but I had then translated it as “Through the darkness, my white teeth prosper; / Oh, to be a vine discovering the / world around you / and flow around the bird’s nest / in which the owl whoos. / I sculpted myself from clay to live in this black body, / ay, ay, ay, my black alchemized body.” I like the way that I had interpreted the different lines from the original but still kept the same meaning.
Translation is something that has always interested me. It’s so fascinating how there can be words that can’t be directly translated into another but we as humans always try to find the perfect way to interpret it. A quote that I feel like perfectly encapsulates this idea is by Antena from A Manifesto of Ultratranslation:
“Translation is an asymptote: no matter how close we try to get, there’s always a space between the two bodies and that is the space where we live. The space where we transpose, or are transposed.”
Bibliography
Garcia, Maria. “Julia de Burgos: A Poet Who Helped Shape Puerto Rico’s Identity” NY Times. May 2, 2018.
Poetry Foundation. “Julia de Burgos”. Poetry Foundation. March 2021.
Pérez-Rosario, Vanessa. “22. Julia de Burgos: Cultural Crossing and Iconicity”. Willis, Deborah, et al.. Women and Migration: Responses in Art and History. Cambridge: Open Book Publishers, 2019.
Hassan, Mahmudal “Īmān, Islām, taqwā, kufr, shirk, and nifāq: Definitions, examples and impacts on human life”. International Islamic University Chittagong, Bangladesh. December, 2017.
Antena “A Manifesto of Unltratranslation”. Austerlitz, New York. 2013
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Grace Darling is a 16 year old high school student from Boston, MA. Grace has a passion for expressing herself through different mediums: the most common being through art and abstract writing. She has come to realize that she loves helping others whenever she can, whether that be through giving moral support or making someone feel beautiful, and aspires to be an aesthetic nurse.