Translation: “Soy Nobody” by Emily Dickinson

Poem by EMILY DICKINSON
Translated into Spanglish by ILAN STAVANS

Soy Nobody
Translation by Ilan Stavans

Soy Nobody! Quién eres tú?
Eres – Nobody – too?
Then somos pareja!
Silencio! lo anunciarán – you know!

Cuán dreary – ser – Somebody!
Cuán public – como un Frog –
Decir one’s nombre – el siempre June –
Al impresionable Bog!

 

(260)
By Emily Dickinson

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

 

Emily Dickinson was born on December 10, 1830, in Amherst, Massachusetts. While Dickinson was extremely prolific and regularly enclosed poems in letters to friends, she was not publicly recognized during her lifetime. The first volume of her work was published posthumously in 1890 and the last in 1955. She died in Amherst in 1886. Upon her death, Dickinson’s family discovered forty handbound volumes of nearly 1,800 poems.

Ilan Stavans is Lewis-Sebring Professor of Humanities, Latin America and Latino Culture at Amherst College. He is the author of the award-winning, book-length poem The Wall (2018) and the translator into English of Jorge Luis Borges and Pablo Neruda and into Spanish of Emily Dickinson and Elizabeth Bishop, among others.

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Translation: “Soy Nobody” by Emily Dickinson

Related Posts

The Swan

MARZIA GRILLO
Luigi goggled his eyes and shook his arms, the veins at his neck straining, all to spit a gold nugget on her sun-polished thigh: ‘It was at the floor of the lake,’ he said, proffering her the same ring as always. And from above his bent knee was visible with little effort, aided by the currents of destiny.

Cloudy sunset over field.

Florida Poems

EDWARD SAMBRANO III
I will die in Portland on an overcast day, / The Willamette River mirroring clouds’ / Bleak forecast and strangers not forgetting— / Not this time—designer raincoats in their closets. / They will leave for work barely in time / To catch their railcars. It will happen / On a day like today.