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Voces | Voci | Voix - Volume II - Spring 2007

Dedication


In Memoriam
Beatriz Jury-Iffland
1945-2006

Originally from Argentina, Beatriz Jury-Iffland was a lecturer in Spanish in the Department of Romance Languages at Tufts from 1979 until 2006. Well-loved by colleagues and students, she dedicated her life to her teaching and to helping her students in and outside the classroom. Bettina was also talented in the arts. She loved drawing and painting, played the guitar and sang to the delight of those around her, and wrote short stories and poetry. She knew how to relate to people with diverse interests. Her wit and unique sense of humor won her many friends, who felt a connection with her quiet yet compelling personality. Her presence here will be missed.

This issue of our department publication is dedicated to her memory. May she rest in peace.


Uncertainty of a Sunday

Through luminous windows
clocks escape
like wounded butterflies
defying the air.
The memory of other Sundays
returns, uncertain,
image of childhood
imprisoned in a flight
of bells: sound of bleeding
doves.
Then time was
a sleepy labyrinth
playing in fields
of ripened wheat.
And January, a blaze of
faceless yellow dolls.

Incertidumbre de domingo

A través de ventanales luminosos
se escapan los relojes
como mariposas heridas
desafiando el aire.
El recuerdo de otros domingos
vuelve con su incertidumbre,
imagen de la infancia
prisionera en un vuelo
de campanas: sonido de palomas
sangrientas.
Entonces el tiempo era
un laberinto soñoliento
jugando en trigales
maduros.
Y enero, un fuego de
amarillas muñecas sin rostros.

Beatriz Jury-Iffland

 

Mendoza Midday

The image of those summer meals
has remained intact
in the expanse of my memory:
the garden with its Sunday mood,
the scent of gladiolas and wisterias,
the clear blue of a Mendoza midday.

Under the thick-stemmed grape arbor,
the long wooden table,
at its head the unmistakeable
figure of abuela Emilia,
her blonde hair gathered,
her quickly moving hands
heaping the plates:
homemade pasta,
tasting of bay leaves and basil,-
red Malbec wine; for dessert, clericó.

The bubbling conversations,
invariably familiar,
would suddenly stop.
Papa’s hoarse voice
reciting Martín Fierro,
García Lorca,
or singing a slum tango
broke the monotonous whining
of the cicadas.

Slowly the siesta,
in its yellow and tenuous stupor,
submerged us in the silence of sleep

Mediodía mendocino

Ha permanecido intacta
en la vastedad de mi memoria
la imagen de los almuerzos veraniegos:
el jardín de aire dominguero,
el aroma de gladiolos y glicinas,
el nítido azul del mediodía mendocino.

Bajo la parra de gordos racimos,
la larga mesa de madera,
a la cabecera, la inconfundible
figura de abuela Emilia,
el cabello rubio recogido,
las manos de rápido movimiento
colmando los platos:
pasta casera-sabor a laurel y albahaca-
tinto Malbec, de postre, clericó.

El bullicio de conversaciones,
invariablemente cotidianas,
cesaba de repente.
La vos ronca de papá
recitando Martín Fierro,
García Lorca,
o cantando un tango arrabalero
quebraba el monótono gemir de las cigarras.

Lentamente la siesta
en su sopor amarillo y tenue
nos sumía en el silencio del sueño.

Beatriz Jury-Iffland
July 2003


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