| Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer -Rima VII. Del salón en el ángulo oscuro...- |
| domingo, 15 de abril de 2007 |
Rima VII. Del salón en el ángulo oscuro...
Del salón en el ángulo oscuro,
de su dueño tal vez olvidada,
silenciosa y cubierta de polvo
veíase el arpa.
¡Cuánta nota dormía en sus cuerdas
como el pájaro duerme en la rama
esperando la mano de nieve
que sabe arrancarlas!
¡Ay! -pensé-, ¡Cuántas veces el genio
así duerme en el fondo del alma,
y una voz, como Lázaro, espera
que le diga: “Levántate y anda”!
Rhyme VII. In the dark corner of the hall...
In the dark corner of the hall,
perhaps forgotten by her mistress,
silent and dusty,
laid the harp.
So many notes slept in her strings,
as the songbird sleeps in the branches,
waiting for the snowy hand
that knows how to awake them!
Alas! - I thought - how often does genius
likewise sleep in the deepest of the heart,
and a voice, like Lazarus, awaits
to be told "Rise and walk!
Translated by Guia K. MontiEtiquetas: Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer |
posted by Bishop @ 10:07  |
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RHYME VII. IN A DARK CORNER OF THE SALON...
In a dark corner of the salon,
perhaps forgotten by its owner,
silent and covered with dust
lay the harp.
How many notes slumber in its strings
like birds sleeping on a branch
awaiting the snowy hand
that knows how to pluck them out!
Ai! - I thought - how many times genius
sleeps thus at the bottom of the soul,
and, like Lazarus, waits for a voice
to command it: "Arise and walk"!
Translated by Howard A. Landman
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RHYME VII. IN A CORNER FULL OF GLOOM...
In a corner full of gloom
Of the formal drawing room,
Prey to dust and silence, we
The neglected harp may see;
Melancholy seems its lot,
Of its owner quite forgot.
Notes lie dormant in its strings
Just as in the bird, who clings
To the branches, while asleep;
They awake the welcome sweep
Of the snowy hands, whose skill
May invoke them at her will.
"Oh, how frequently," thought I,
"Genius thus asleep may lie
"And, like lazarus, await
"The desired, portentous date,
"When the voice shall sweetly say:
""Rise though and pursue thy way!""
Translated by Jules Renard
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RHYME VII. IN A SHADOWY NOOK OF THE CHAMBER...
In a shadowy nook of the chamber,
All covered with dust, and mute -
Forgotten, perhaps, by its master -
Was seen the lute.
What tones in its strings were sleeping,
As birds in the branches sleep,
Awaiting the master's snowy hand
Its chords to sweep!
How oft, I thought, thus sleepeth
In the soul's depths genius' worth,
Like Lazarus waiting for a voice
To say, "Come forth!"
Translated by Young Allison
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RHYME VII. IN A DARK CORNER OF THE SALON...
In a dark corner of the salon,
perhaps forgotten by its owner,
silent and covered with dust
lay the harp.
How many notes slumber in its strings
like birds sleeping on a branch
awaiting the snowy hand
that knows how to pluck them out!
Ai! - I thought - how many times genius
sleeps thus at the bottom of the soul,
and, like Lazarus, waits for a voice
to command it: "Arise and walk"!
Translated by Howard A. Landman