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Translation of Jorge Luis Borges’ “Dreamtigers”

Translation of Jorge Luis Borges’ “Dreamtigers”

Posted by Richard McDorman on December 16, 2014 3:57 pm / 0 Comments

Dreamtigers
Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986)

En la infancia yo ejercí con fervor la adoración del tigre: no el tigre overo de los camalotes del Paraná y de la confusión amazónica, sino el tigre rayado, asiático, real, que sólo pueden afrontar los hombres de guerra, sobre un castillo encima de un elefante.

Yo solía demorarme sin fin ante una de las jaulas en el Zoológico; yo apreciaba las vastas enciclopedias y los libros de historia natural, por el esplendor de sus tigres (todavía me acuerdo de esas figuras: yo que no puedo recordar sin error la frente o la sonrisa de una mujer.)

Pasó la infancia, caducaron los tigres y su pasión, pero todavía están en mis sueños. En esa napa sumergida o caótica siguen prevaleciendo y así: dormido, me distrae un sueño cualquiera y de pronto sé que es un sueño. Suelo pensar entonces: éste es un sueño, una pura invención de mi voluntad, y ya que tengo un ilimitado poder, voy a causar un tigre.

¡Oh, incompetencia! Nunca mis sueños saben engendrar la apetecida fiera. Aparece el tigre, eso sí, pero disecado o endeble, o con impuras variaciones de forma, o de un tamaño inadmisible, o harto fugaz, o tirando a perro o a pájaro.

 

Translation by Richard E. McDorman
© 2011-2014

Dedicated to all those who’ve ever wondered what a howdah is …

Dreamtigers

Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986)

When I was a child, I fervently worshiped the tiger—not the spotted tiger from the floating hyacinths of the Parana and the Amazonian wilds, but the striped tiger, Asiatic and royal, that can only be seen up close by men at war sitting atop a howdah on the back of an elephant. I used to spend hours in front of the cages at the zoo; I admired the huge encyclopedias and the natural history books just for the splendor of their tigers (and while I can hardly remember the face or the smile of a woman, I can still remember those images).

My childhood ended—the tigers and my passion for them faded away—but they are still in my dreams. They continue to thrive in that sunken, hazy realm and so while I sleep, some dream will lure me and I will suddenly realize that I’m dreaming. Then I think, “This is a dream, a pure invention of my will, and since I have unlimited power I will make a tiger appear.”

Oh, what incompetence! My dreams are never able to make the wild animal I long for appear. Although the tiger does appear, it’s either stuffed or feeble, or deformed, or of an unacceptable size, or far too fleeting, or a bit too much like a dog or a bird.

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Richard E. McDorman is certified by the American Translators Association (ATA) for translation from Spanish to English. Mr. McDorman currently resides in Miami, Florida.

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