On a day like today, 30 years ago, Avilés de Taramancos died (Boa, Noia, April 6, 1935, A Coruña, March 23, 1992). Precocious poet (he published his first poem at the age of fifteen, in the magazine Tapal de Noia), emigrant and adventurer (he spent time in the Amazon jungle), he became a tavern poet when he returned to Galicia in the eighties. A return full of cultural initiatives (poetic recitals in his Tasca Típica tavern, cultural societies such as Catavento, chairing the Association of Writers in the Galician Language, etc.) in which he still had time to deal with cultural policy as councilor for culture in Noia for a few years before he died and, above all, write and publish constantly.
Nature, love, eroticism and a deep knowledge of life and men, make up the substance of a writing that begins in Galician because, as he himself has said, he did not know the names of the birds, the trees or the things in a language other than their own. When he already learned other languages, Avilés was able to integrate them into Galician, as in this beautiful poem published in “Cantos caucanos”.
| Ter unha casa en Chachauí sobre do cume | Have a house in Chachagüí on the summit |
| do Cúndur-Cúndur que os incas bautizaron | of the Cúndur-Cúndur that the Incas baptized |
| polas grandes aves míticas. Ter unha casa en Chachauí | by the great mythical birds. Have a house in Chachagüí |
| e ver no fondo do precipicio o Putumaio | and see the Putumaio at the bottom of the precipice |
| brincar como un regueiro pequeniño. | jump like a small stream. |
| Ter unha casa en Chachauí | Have a house in Chachagüí |
| e escoitar á noitiña o zunido dos vagalumes, | and listen to the buzz of the fireflies at night, |
| dos cocuios, o canto do turpial | of the cocuyos, the song of the turpial |
| e o miar estremecedor do puma negro. | and the shuddering meow of the black cougar. |
| Ter unha casa en Chachauí, | Have a house in Chachagüí, |
| esquecerse do tempo, estar ao pé dun deus antigo | forget time, stand at the feet of an ancient god |
| amigo do sol. | friend of the sun. |
| Ter unha casa en Chachauí. | Have a house in Chachagüí. |
| Abaixo, no camiño de Ipiales, na estrada do Ecuador, | Down on the highway to Ipiales, on the highway to Ecuador, |
| brillan as flores ventureiras. | the adventurous flowers shine. |
| Pero as estrelas son máis grandes. | But the stars are bigger. |
| Ter unha casa en Chachauí. | Have a house in Chachagüí. |
Avilés de Taramancos (Cantos caucanos, 1985, Santiago de Compostela, Edicións Sotelo Blanco)
“Dásme a vida”, taken from the collection of poems “As torres no ar” published in 1989, masterfully mixes a touch of furtive eroticism with the despair derived from an adulterous relationship. He already wanted to sing a love song, and Avilés presents us with this beautiful, furtive and fugitive yearning.
- DASME A VIDA Fran Amil 4:35
| Chamo á porta do amor na noite escura | I knock on the door of love in the dark night |
| e está o teu corazón coa luz prendida. | and your heart is with the light on. |
| A túa man socórreme a ferida | Your hand heals my wound |
| e cúrame o teu labio a desventura. | and your lip cures misfortune. |
| Dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | You give me life and you give me burial |
| E dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | And you give me life and you give me burial |
| A auga que me dás tan fresca e pura | The water you give me so fresh and pure |
| é da fonte limpísima da vida: | It is from the purest source of life: |
| mel da túa roseira florescida | honey from your flowered rosebush |
| entre as coxas, as sedas, a espesura… | between the thighs, the silks, the thickness… |
| Dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | You give me life and you give me burial |
| E dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | And you give me life and you give me burial |
| Pois xa por sempre irei de ti cautivo | Well, I will go from you captive forever |
| pois dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | Well, you give me life and you give me burial |
| dun amor imposíbel e furtivo. | of an impossible and furtive love. |
| Pois dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | Well, you give me life and you give me burial |
| E dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | And you give me life and you give me burial |
| Como me doe a túa fermosura | How your beauty hurts me |
| da que devezo e ando fuxitivo | from which I desire and I’m fugitive |
| pois sei que o mal que teño non ten cura! | Well, I know that the illness I have has no cure! |
| Pois dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura | Well, you give me life and you give me burial |
| E dasme a vida e dasme a sepultura. | And you give me life and you give me burial |
To pay tribute to the bartender poet, I leave here the version of “Dásme a vida” that we performed as a trio Alberto Romero on electric guitar, Fernando Román on soprano sax and me on acoustic guitar. The recording of the image was made by Carlos Amil, and Miguel Otero was at the sound table. It belongs to a concert we did at the Valdoviño Municipal Auditorium on March 11 of this year. Enjoy it.
To listen to it, click on the title above the photo.
If you want to know more about the tavern poet, you can visit these pages:
In Galicia Única, in Spanish.
On the page of the Real Academia Galega.
In the blog «Brújulas y espirales», by Francisco Martínez Bouzas, in Spanish.
If you want to see more anniversaries related to the lyrical authors of the album “Popsia Vol. I” click HERE.