Rima LXVIII. No se lo que he soñado...
No se lo que he soñado
En la noche pasada
Triste, muy triste debió ser el sueño,
Pues despierto la angustia me duraba.
Note, al incorporarme,
Húmeda la almohada,
Y por primera vez sentí, al notarlo,
De un amargo placer henchirse el alma.
Triste cosa es el sueno
Que llanto nos arranca;
Más tengo en mi tristeza una alegría...
¡Se que aun me quedan lagrimas!
Rhyme LXVIII. I wept while I was dreaming...
I wept while I was dreaming
That thou didst buried lie;
I woke, and with my weeping
My cheeks were not yet dry.
I wept while I was dreaming
That thou hadst gone from me;
I woke, and still kept weeping
Full long and bitterly.
I wept while I was dreaming
That thou didst love me well;
I woke, and--woe is me, love--
My tears are flowing still.
Translated by Chas. G. LelandEtiquetas: Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer |
RHYME LXVIII. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DREAMED...
I don't know what I dreamed
this past night;
sad very sad the dream must have been,
because the anguish is still with me.
I noticed when sitting up
a wetness on the pillow,
and felt for the first time on seeing it
pleasure in the bitterness filling my soul.
A sad thing is the dream
that starts us crying,
but in my sadness there is a joy...
I know that I still have tears.
Translated by H. Landman