Great Lake

By

Oliverio Girondo 

(translation by

Kathryn A. Kopple) 

 

When asking for a ticket it’s a must to speak in a resounding voice.

ISOLA BELLA!  ISOLA BELLA!

Isola Bella, befitting the grandeur of the tapestries painted

by the English femmes.

Isola Bella, with her palace and even that coat of arms on the 

porphyritic doors.

HUMYLITAS

Salons!  Salons of stormy, coffered ceilings

where four-hundred caryatids give each other the fist amid

a throng of cherubs.

HUMYLITAS

Alcoves with beds made of topaz that insist

whomsoever lies down there at the very least wear one “aigrette” from a bird-of-paradise

in their rump.

HUMYLITAS

Gardens that spill into the lake in a cascade of

terraces, and where peacocks open their white parasols

of lace to shade themselves from the sun, or sweep

with their brooms incrusted with sapphires and rubies paths bloodied

with poppies.

HUMYLITAS

Gardens where the staff polish the leaves of trees 

so that upon entering we adjust our neckties, and so that --before the nudity of the Venuses 

that populate the woods-- they toast us with

a camphor bough. 

ISOLA BELLA!  

Isola Bella, without a doubt, she is the very landscape that goes so well 

with the tapestries painted by the English femmes.

Isola Bella, with her palace and even that coat of arms on its

porphyritic doors.

HUMYLITAS

****

Lago mayor

Al pedir el boleto hay que impostar la voz.

¡ISOLA BELLA! ¡ISOLA BELLA!

Isola Bella, tiene justo el grandor que queda bien, en la tela que

pintan las inglesas.

Isola Bella, con su palacio y hasta con el lema del escudo de sus 

puertas de pórfido:

HUMILITAS

¡Salones! Salones! de artesonados tormentosos donde

 cuatrocientas cariátides se hacen cortes de manga entre

 una bandada de angelitos.

HUMILITAS

Alcobas con lechos de topacio que exigen que quien se acueste 

en ellos se ponga por lo menos una aigrette de ave de paraíso

en el trasero.

HUMILITAS

Jardines que se derraman en el lago en una cascada de

terrazas, y donde los pavos reales abren sus blancas sombrillas 

de encaje, para taparse el sol o barren, con sus escobas 

incrustadas de zafiros y de rubíes, los caminos ensangrentados 

de amapolas.

HUMILITAS

Jardines donde los guardianes lustran las hojas de los árboles

para que al pasar, nos arreglemos la corbata, y que -- ante la

desnudez de las Venus que pueblan los boscajes-- nos brindan 

una rama de alcanfor...

¡ISOLA BELLA!...

Isola Bella, sin duda, es el paisaje que queda bien, en la tela que pintan 

las inglesas.

Isola Bella, con su palacio y hasta con el lema del escudo de sus

 puertas de pórfido:

HUMILITAS

NOTES:  In 1922, the Argentine poet Oliverio Girondo published Veinte poems para ser leídos en el tranvía (Twenty poems to be read on a streetcar).  The above translation of "Lago Mayor" (Great Lake) is not the first, and certainly not the last.  The "great lake" of the poem refers to Lake Maggiore in Italy.  Isola Bella is an island where, in 1632, Carlo III began construction of a palace for his wife, Isabella D'Adda.  The palace and gardens were not completed until 1671. 

The "coat of arms" in the poem refers to of the House of Borromeo, which includes a "stylized version of word "humylitas" (written with gothic-script "minims"), the Visconti snake swallowing a child, and a small version of the famous Borromean rings."

Much has been written about Veinte poemas.  As concerns the above translation, I am indebted to Shira Rubestien, who translated the entire collection for her undergraduate dissertation under the direction of Olga Broumas.  My version is a bit earthier for reasons that reflect not a bit on the excellent work done by Rubenstein. 

The Spanish version of the poem can be found at Poeticous.

To learn more about Girondo's life and work, please see Oliverio Girondo's Absurd Cosmopolitan World.