Las calles van J.L. Borges
by Ken Mangroelal
Poems are to be read and enjoyed in the first place, but sometimes afterwards they invite one to reflect on them and in this case philosophically. The opening lines of ‘Las calles’, a poem by J.L. Borges, are a good example showing what is meant by the identity of the subject with the object in philosophy. The poet (subject) indentifies himself with the object (the streets):
Las Calles de Buenos Aires ya son mi entraña
My soul is in the streets of Buenos Aires.
‘Las calles’, ‘the streets’ are many in number of course, but to further define or demarcate his identity the poets does that first negatively, then positively as he goes on:
No las ávidas calles, incómodas de turba y de ajetreo, sino las calles desganadas del barrio, casi invisibles de habituales, enternecidas de penumbra y de acaso aquellas más afuera ajenas de árboles piadosos donde austeras casitas apenas se aventuran, abrumadas por immortales distancias, perderse en la honda vision de cielo y de llanura.”
Not the greedy streets
jostling with crowds and traffic,
but the neighbourhood streets where nothing
is happening. Almost invisible by force of
habit, rendered eternal in the dim light of
sunset, and the ones even farther out,
empty of comforting trees,
where austere little houses scarcely venture,
overwhelmed by deathless distances,
losing themselves in the deep expanse of
sky and plains.
The streets with which the poet identifies are: listless (disganadas), almost invisible, (casi invisibles), softened by shadow and sunset (eternecidas de penumbra y acaso), and empty of comforting trees (ajenas de árboles piadosos). Austere little houses scarcely venture there (apenas se aventuran), overwhelmed by deathless distances (abrumadas por immortales distancias) and losing themselves in the deep expanse of sky and plains (perderse en la honda vision de cielo y de llanura).
But these austere little houses also have their positivity, their comfort, their promise to the solitary:
Son para el solitario una promesa Porque millares de almas singulares las pueblan, únicas ante Dios y en el tiempo y sin duda presiosias.
For the solitary one they are a promise
because thousands of singular souls
inhabit them, unique before God and in
time and no doubt precious.
The poem ends with a trinity-like identity: identity of poet, streets, and country:
Hacia el Oeste, el Norte y el Sur se han desplegado-y son también la patria- las calles: ojalá en los versos que trazo estén esas banderas
To the West, the North, and the South
unfold the streets – and they too are my country:
within these lines I trace
may their flags fly.
Translation of the poem by Stephen Kessler, 1999
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