| About this blog |
Poemas en Inglés es un blog que pretende acercar poemas de lengua inglesa al castellano |
| Sentences |
"Por principio, toda traducción es buena. En cualquier caso, pasa con ellas lo que con las mujeres: de alguna manera son necesarias, aunque no todas son perfectas" Augusto Monterroso -La palabra mágica-
"Es imposible traducir la poesía. ¿Acaso se puede traducir la música?" Voltaire
"Translating poetry is like making jewelry. Every word counts, and each sparkles with so many facets. Translating prose is like sculpting: get the shape and the lines right, then polish the seams later." James Nolan
"La traducción destroza el espíritu del idioma" Federico García Lorca |
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| Garcilaso de la Vega -Soneto V. Escrito está en mi alma...- |
| viernes, 14 de noviembre de 2003 |
Soneto V. Escrito está en mi alma...
Escrito está en mi alma vuestro gesto
y cuanto yo escribir de vos deseo:
vos sola lo escribistes; yo lo leo
tan solo que aun de vos me guardo en esto.
En esto estoy y estaré siempre puesto,
que aunque no cabe en mí cuanto en vos veo,
de tanto bien lo que no entiendo creo,
tomando ya la fe por presupuesto.
Yo no nací sino para quereros;
mi alma os ha cortado a su medida;
por hábito del alma misma os quiero;
cuanto tengo confieso yo deberos;
por vos nací, por vos tengo la vida,
por vos he de morir, y por vos muero.
Sonnet V. Your countenace is written...
Your countenace is written in my soul,
and whatever I may wish to write of you;
you yourself wrote it; I read it
in such privacy that I hide even from you.
In this condition I am and always remain;
for though I can not contain all that I see in you,
whatever i do not comprehend of your great worth,I believe,
since my faith takes it for granted.
I was born only to love you;
my soul has cut you to its measure;
I want you as a garment for my soul.
Whatever I own I confess I owe to you;
for you I was born, for you I have life,
for you I must die and for you I am dying.Etiquetas: Garcilaso de la Vega |
posted by Bishop @ 10:05  |
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| 1 Comments: |
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SONNET V. THY FACE IS WRITTEN IN MY SOUL...
Thy face is written in my soul
Lady, thy face is written in my soul,
And whenso'er I wish to chant thy praise,
On that illumined manuscript I gaze,
Thou the sweet scribe art, I but read the scroll.
In this dear study all my days shall roll;
And though this book can ne'er the half receive
Of what in thee is charming, I believe
In that I see not, and thus see the whole.
With faith's clear eye; I but received my breath
To love thee, my ill Genius shaped the rest;
'Tis now that soul's mechanic act to love thee,
I love thee, owe thee more than I confessed;
I gained life by thee, cruel though I prove thee;
In thee I live, through thee I bleed to death.
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SONNET V. THY FACE IS WRITTEN IN MY SOUL...
Thy face is written in my soul
Lady, thy face is written in my soul,
And whenso'er I wish to chant thy praise,
On that illumined manuscript I gaze,
Thou the sweet scribe art, I but read the scroll.
In this dear study all my days shall roll;
And though this book can ne'er the half receive
Of what in thee is charming, I believe
In that I see not, and thus see the whole.
With faith's clear eye; I but received my breath
To love thee, my ill Genius shaped the rest;
'Tis now that soul's mechanic act to love thee,
I love thee, owe thee more than I confessed;
I gained life by thee, cruel though I prove thee;
In thee I live, through thee I bleed to death.