Fourth in the series of Neruda's odes to our kitchen consumables is his Oda al maiz. I have already done his ode to the fried potatoes, onion and tomato. So here it is with my translations.
Oda al maiz Ode to the Maize 玉米之頌
América, de un grano America, from a grain 亞美利加 ，你自
de maíz te elevaste of maize, you rose 一顆玉米成長
hasta llenar until you fill 直至
de tierras espaciosas with spacious earth 浪花四濺的
del espumoso from the foamy 汪洋
océano. ocean. 填滿廣濶的大地
Fue un grano de maíiz tu geografia. You created geography from a grain of maize 玉米塑造了你的地理。
El grano The grain 種子
adelantó una lanza verde, advanced with a green lance, 亮出一綠矛，
la lanza verde se cubrió de oro the green lance covered itself in gold 綠矛披上一身黄金
y engalanó la altura and decorated the height 替祕魯高地
del Perú con pámpano amarillo. of Peru with yellow pampas. 妝上片片蛋黃草原
Pero, poeta, deja But, poet, leave 但，詩人，須把
la historia en su mortaja the story in its shroud 歷史留給她的壽衣
y alaba con tu lira and praise with your lyre 以七弦琴歌頌
al grano en su graneros: the grain in its granaries: 在糧倉之種子：
canta el simple maiz de las cocinas. sing the simple maize of the kitchens. 高唱廚房那純樸的玉米。
Primero suave barba First the smooth beard 起初柔軟鬍鬚
agitada en el huerto agitates in the garden 慫恿着田中
sobre los tiernos dientes over the tender teeths 穗軸之
de la joven mazoca. of the young corncob, 嫩芽。
Luego se abrió el estuche Later, it opened its case 稍後綻開其葉鞘
y la fecundidad rompió sus velos and fertility broke its veils 豐沃揭起它蒼白如紙
de palido papiro of palid paper 的面紗
para que se desgrane to disseminate 使玉米之笑容
la risa del maíz sobre la tierra. the maize's laughter over the land. 散播大地。
A la piedra To a stone 你
en tu viaje, regrasabas. in your voyage you regress. 在旅程中與石塊重蓬。
No a la piedra terrible, Not to the terrible stone 不是墨西哥那可怖
al sanguinario with the bloody 血惺
triángulo de la muerte mexicana, triangle of the Mexican killing, 三角死亡的石塊
sino a la piedra de moler, but to the mill stone, 而是在我們厨房
sagrada the sacred 那神聖
piedra de nuestras cocinas. stone of our kitchens. 磨石。
Alli leche y materia, There milk and material. 在哪牛奶和素材
poderosa y nutrica powerful and nutritious 滿載能量和營養
pulpa de los pasteles pulp of our cakes 的糕餅漿糊
llegaste a ser movida you arrived to be moved 你抵步後
por milagrosas manos by the miraculos hands 被黑髮女郎
de mujeres morenas. of brunettes. . 神奇之手揉揑。
Donde caigas, maíz, Where you fall. maize 你倒地之處，玉米，
en la olla ilustre in the famous stew 在那遐邇馳名的
de las perdices o entre los fréjoles of the patridges or between the red beans 鷓鴣煲或鄉村紅豆
redempestres, iluminas of the coutryside, you light up 你給食物添上光彩，
la comida y le acercas the food and come near 並帶出其
el virginal sabor de tu substancia. the virgin flavor of your substance. 無玷之香。
Morderte, Bite, 咬罷，
panocha de maíz, junto al océano ear of the maize, close to the ocean 在那遙遠歌海
de cantata remota y vals profundo. of remote song and deep waltz. 和深奧之華爾兹旁的玉米穗。
Hervierte Burn 燃燒罷
y que tu aroma so that your aroma 讓你的幽香
por las sierras azules may disperse all through 吹遍
de desplieque. the blue mountains 藍山。
Pero dónde But where 但何處
no llega doesn't your treasure 沒有
tu tesoro? reach? 你的瑰寶？
En las tierras marinas In the seaward 在海傍
y calcares, and calceous , 在石灰岩
peladas, en las rocas bare lands, in 之荒地，
de litoral chileno, the Chlean coast, 在智利岸邊之群岩，
a la mesa desnuda to the naked tableland 在鑛工
del minero of the miners 一無所有的桌上，
a veces sólo llega sometimes you arrive alone 有時衹得
la claridad de tu mercaderia. at the brilliance of your merchandise. 你一來貨之光照。
Puebla tu luz, tu harina, tu esperanza, People your light, your flour, your hope, 使你的光芒，你的麪朌，你的希望
la soledad de América, the loneliness of America, 亞美利加的孤獨
y el hambre and hunger 和渴望
considere tus lanzas considers your lances 視你的長矛為
legiones enemigas. enemy legions. 敵人之兵團。
Entre tu hojas como Between your leaves like 在你如嬌貴炖肉之
suave guiso delicate stew 葉間
crecieron nuestros graves corazones grew the heavy hearts 我們鄉間小孩
de niños provincianos of our provincial children 沈重的心成長
y comenzó la vida and life began to 而生命開始
a desgranarios. disseminate us. 散播。
According to historians, the maize is the only cereal unique to South America. It already existed in Mexico about 7,000 years ago but in those days, it was much smaller than it is today, its cob only three to four centimeters in length and 1 centimeter in diameter but before the arrival of Columbus in America, they had already been planted in Chile and had developed between two hundred to thre hundred varieties. It was the staple of the Aztecss, the Incas and the Mayans and had become sarred to them. It was first introduced to Asturias in Spain in 1604 by the then governor of Florida. Today there are about 400 varieties of corn and it is the third most cultivated cereal in the whole world, wheat being the first and rice a close second.The South Americans eat a lot of sweet corn. They grind it down to make flour with which they make all kinds of bread and cakes and they also use it as salads and in all kinds of meat stews including the patridge stew But the most common form the corn is eaten is to use its flour to make a kind of pan cake called the tortilla.
In this poem, Neruda thought that the entire continent of South America is raised on the maize or sweet corn. It is grown from coast to coast and even on the high plains. To him, the shoot of the corn looks like a lance in green and the geography of the continent is a synonym for the the geography of corn. But he is not concerned with history of how the corn came to be grown in America. What is close to his heart is how the corn enriches the diet of the people at the South American kitchen. To him, when the corn is ripe, it breaks open in a big open and sunny smile and that smile is a smile across the whole of the South American continent. It is literally grown everywhere and in the most unlikely places. It enriches the life of the peasants, the miners and generally the working class people. South Americans eat a lot of sweet corn. They grind it down to make flour with which they make all kinds of bread and cakes and they also use it as salads and in all kinds of meat stews including the patridge stew.To Neruda, the rows and rows of corn growing on South American soil sway in the wind in a kind of "profound" waltz, like so many dancers engaged in rhythmic and graceful movements. But the corn is not just decorative. It provides solid nourishment to the children and not just to their physical body. It nourishes too the children's hope of being free from hunger and being able to grow into healthy adults. To him, when he thinks of the leaves of the corn, he thinks of the stew on the children's dinner table and of their heavy heart, a heart laden with fear of whether they will survive their hunger so that he may continue to grow into adulthood! And if it dances in the wind, he thinks it dances for life!
Neruda has written more than a thousand poems. How did he start writing poetry? I just discovered a tiny fragment written by Neruda on how he came to write his first poem. He said (my translation of an extract from his Confieso que he vivido or Confession that I have lived): "Many times, I have been asked when I wrote my first poem and when the poetry in me was born. I shall try to recall it. Very early in my childhood and hardly had I learned to write, I felt an intense emotion one time and I discovered a number of semi-rhythmic words but they were strange to me, different from daily language . I put them on a clean sheet of paper, felt pressed by a deep sense of worry, of a feeling until then unknown, a kind of anxiety and sadness. It was a poem dedicated to my mother, that is, to her whom I knew as such, an angelic stepmother whose delicate shadow protected me all through my childhood. Completely unable to judge my first production, I took it to my relatives. They were in the dressing room, submerged in one of their conversations in a low voice which divided the world of the children and that of the adults by more than a river. I stretched the paper out with its lines, tremblingly yet with the first visit of inspiration. My father, distractedly, placed it between his hands, and distractedly read it and distractedly turned me around, saying to me: from where did you copy it? and then continued to talk in a low voice with my mother about other important and remote things.". That is all!
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