Rima III. Sacudimiento extraño...
Sacudimiento extraño
que agita las ideas,
como huracán que empuja
las olas en tropel.
Murmullo que en el alma
se eleva y va creciendo
como volcán que sordo
anuncia que va a arder.
Deformes siluetas
de seres imposibles;
paisajes que aparecen
como al través de un tul.
Colores que fundiéndose
remedan en el aire
los átomos del iris
que nadan en la luz.
Ideas sin palabras,
palabras sin sentido;
cadencias que no tienen
ni ritmo ni compás.
Memorias y deseos
de cosas que no existen;
accesos de alegría,
impulsos de llorar.
Actividad nerviosa
que no halla en qué emplearse;
sin riendas que le guíen,
caballo volador.
Locura que el espíritu
exalta y desfallece,
embriaguez divina
del genio creador...
Tal es la inspiración.
Gigante voz que el caos
ordena en el cerebro
y entre las sombras hace
la luz aparecer.
Brillante rienda de oro
que poderosa enfrena
de la exaltada mente
el volador corcel.
Hilo de luz que en haces
los pensamientos ata;
sol que las nubes rompe
y toca en el zenit.
Inteligente mano
que en un collar de perlas
consigue las indóciles
palabras reunir.
Armonioso ritmo
que con cadencia y número
las fugitivas notas
encierra en el compás.
Cincel que el bloque muerde
la estatua modelando,
y la belleza plástica
añade a la ideal.
Atmósfera en que giran
con orden las ideas,
cual átomos que agrupa
recóndita atracción.
Raudal en cuyas ondas
su sed la fiebre apaga,
oasis que al espíritu
devuelve su vigor...
Tal es nuestra razón.
Con ambas siempre en lucha
y de ambas vencedor,
tan sólo al genio es dado
a un yugo atar las dos.
Rhyme III. Strange jolt...
Strange jolt
that shakes up ideas,
like a hurricane that impels
the waves' mad rush;
murmur rising
in the soul and growing
like a volcano recklessly
announcing it will burn;
deformed silhouettes
of impossible beings;
landscapes that appear
like a curtain of tulle;
colors that fuse
in the air imitating
motes of rainbow
that swim in the light;
ideas without words
words without sense;
cadences that have
no rate or compass;
memories and desires
for things that don't exist;
upwellings of joy
surges of crying;
nervous activity
that finds no outlet;
flying horse
with no reins to guide it;
madness that exalts
and inflames the spirit;
divine intoxication
of the creative genius...
Such is inspiration!
giant voice that orders
the chaos in the brain,
and between the shadows
makes light appear;
brilliant gold rein
that forcefully controls
the soaring steed
of the exalted mind;
thread of light that
binds thoughts together;
sun that scatters the clouds
and touches the zenith;
clever hand
that is able to string
defiant words
into a necklace of pearls;
harmonious rhythm
that with cadence and count
imprisons fugitive notes
within its compass;
chisel that bites the block
to carve the statue
and the beauty of clay
going beyond the ideal;
atmosphere in which ideas
gyrate with order,
as atoms bind
by arcane attraction;
torrent in whose waves
the fever slakes its thirst;
oasis that revives
the vigor of the spirit ...
Such is our reason!
With both always struggling
and conquering both
only thus can genius
bind the two with one yoke.
Translated by Howard A. Landman
Rhyme III. LIKE AN INDIAN HURRICANE...
ResponderEliminarLike an Indian Hurricane
Lending its impetus
To lash the ocean main;
Stirring the sluggish brain,
- A quickening incubus.
Murmurs, which in the soul
Rise and increase in ire,
With hoarse announcement roll
Deep in the crater's bowl,
- Like a volcano's fire.
Mis-shapen sillhouettes
Of non-existing things;
Landscapes, that one forgets,
Seen, as through gauzy nets
- Or magic mirrorings.
Colors, which blending glow
Within the air; the bright
Atoms to atoms grow
Till the celestial bow
- Swims in prismatic light.
Words, of all meaning shorn,
Sense, quite bereft of words;
Cadences rudely torn
From rhythm, measure, norm,
- Like broken potter's sherds.
Mem'ries and vain desires
For things we ne'er have known;
Joy, which the fancy fires,
Tears that the heart requires
- When we're alone.
Nervous activity
Seeking to find a mean
For some utility;
Steed of high quality
- Without a guiding rein.
Madness, that steeps the soul
In fierce elation;
Draughts from the celestial bowl,
Creative genius as a whole, -
- This is inspiration.
Tremendous voice which regulates
The chaos of the brain;
Which lowering shadows dissipates,
Restoring light again.
Resplendent rein of gold, to curb
With power the flying steed,
When frantic fancies him disturb
And he is deaf to heed.
Refulgent thread of light, which binds
In fagots our strewn thought;
Sun, which in vaulted zenith shines,
Breaking through clouds, as naught.
Discerning hand, persisting e'er
To re-unite and bring
Our untamed words within a rare
And richly jeweled ring.
Harmonious rhythm, which confines
Within a certain bound
The fleeting notes and deftly twines
A measured cadence round.
Chisel, which bites the sculptor's block,
Uniting in this duty
Ideals, which our senses mock
With perfect plastic beauty.
The region, where in ordered troops
Ideas may revolve;
Where atoms form concentric groups
From secret, joint resolve.
Pellucid spring, whose balmy waves
Assuage the thirst of fever;
Oasis, which the spirit craves
As vigor's best retriever.
Such is our reason.
Forever battling with them, stroke for stroke,
Forever conqueror of both, - no one
Can bring them both beneath a common yoke
Except the force of genius alone.
Translated by Jules Renard
RHYME III. STRANGE AGITATION...
ResponderEliminarStrange agitation
That flings up ideas,
As billows in tumult
When hurricane blows;
Murmur within the sould
Rising and swelling,
As a muffled foretelling
Of volcanic throes;
Silhouettes formless
Of beings impossible;
Scenes that, as through a veil
Spectral beseem;
Blending of colors,
In the air mimicking
Motes of the iris
That swim in the beam;
Thoughts without words,
Words without reason;
Harmonies rhythmless
That measureless sweep;
Memories and longings
For things that never are;
Kindlings of joyousness,
Urgings to weep;
Buoyant activity
Lacking a goal to seek;
Wing'd courser, guided
To no destination;
Madness exalting,
Inflaming the spirit;
Creator of genius,
Divine ebriation ...
Such is Inspiration!
Great voice commanding
The chaos of the brain;
Voice that amidst the shades
Ordains the light;
Bright golden curb
With power restraining
Of the exalted mind
The wing'd courser's flight;
Threads of light binding
The thoughts together;
Sun that, dispelling clouds,
To zenith whirls;
Intelligent hand that
succeeds in uniting
Unruly words into
A circlet of pearls;
Harmonious rhythm that
With number and measure
Encloses the fugitive
Notes in the scale;
Chisel that bites the block
Forming the statue,
And weds plastic beauty
Unto the ideal;
Ether wherein ideas
Swing in good order,
As atoms that hidden
Attraction doth bind;
Torrent where fever
Its hot thirst assuages;
Oasis where the soul
New strength doth find ...
Such is the Mind!
With both ever struggling,
And victory over twain,
Only genius to one yoke
The two may enchain.
Translated by Young Allison