Fifty Spanish Poems: With English Translations

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The transparent sky is by surprise darkened, in any other case the darkish turns into transparent. there's a furious track of silver that’s out of track, rather than the luxurious sound, the golden concord of the celestial tubas ; nice chimerical organs, vivid with melodious embers of clear-skied sunsets which by no means have an finish. distress and proximity. The black revolution in heaven throws gigantic tons of flesh directly to our shores. Upheavals of flesh and spirit, issues at excessive altitudes, lead us in drunken terror to gusts of actual insanity. nine Who is familiar with what’s in the back of each minute! what number occasions the dawn has occurred at the back of a mountain! How usually the royal thrill of a brand new horizon held in its golden womb a clap of thunder! That rose was once lethal poison. That merciless sword gave existence. I dreamed of a fancy meadow it lay on the a ways finish of a protracted street— i discovered myself in a marsh. Then I dreamed of the honour of all issues human, and located myself within the divine. [ 39] 10 LEVEDAD El visillo, en l. a. quietud augusta y el silencio de los angeles tranquila madrugada, se mueve, dulce, al aire vago . . . —j Instante hermoso, que hermanas a los vivos con los muertos, que los confundes (no se sabe quien esta muerto, ni quien vivo) en una misma intensidad de aliento! . . . Todo el mundo esta muerto, o todo vivo. — Y el aire vago de los angeles madrugada mueve el visillo bianco de mi ventana abierta . . . —Parece este moverse del visillo los angeles vida common, todo el aliento de los angeles tierra, los angeles fuerza que resta, sola, del impetu del astro, su ruido por su orbita celeste. — Y se mueve el visillo, al aire vago de l. a. madrugada, bianco . . . —jPlenitud de lo mmimo, que llena el mundo, y fija el pensamiento inmenso, en su vaguedad—hoja que cae, gota que brilla, olor que pasa . . .! [ forty] LIGHTNESS My window-curtain, within the majestic stillness and the silence of the unruffled early morning, relocating softly to mild breezes. Oh, gorgeous second that makes the dwelling brother to the lifeless, one like one other (there’s no telling that's the lifeless and which the dwelling) within the one nice depth of respiring! . . . all of the international needs to be lifeless now, in any other case all dwelling nonetheless. and people mild breezes of the early morning movement the white, waving curtain of my wide-open window . . . i feel this mild move of my curtain is the lifetime of the universe, all of the breath of the earth, all of the energy last with us of earth’s primeval impetus, the sunshine sound of its whirling, heavenly orbit. And the curtain’s relocating now, within the gentle breezes of the early morning, all white . . . Oh, how complete is the least factor that fills the area, and fixes the boundless contemplation of such uncertainty : the leaf that falls, the drop that glints, the odor that passes . . .! Y el visillo, azul ya su blancura —que ha pasado l. a. noche, mirando yo su vaguedad movida—, se mueve, dulce, aun, al aire vago. Antolojia, 280. eleven VOZ INMENSA A Oscar Espla Solo abren l. a. paz una campana, un pajaro . . . Parece que los dos hablan con el ocaso. Es de oro el silencio. l. a. tarde es de cristales. Mece los frescos arboies una pureza errante.

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