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|Poemas en Inglés
es un blog que pretende acercar poemas de lengua inglesa al castellano
"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
| Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer -Rima XIV. Te vi un punto y flotando ante mis ojos...-
| domingo, 15 de abril de 2007
|Rima XIV. Te vi un punto y flotando ante mis ojos...
Te vi un punto y flotando ante mis ojos
la imagen de tus ojos se quedó,
como la mancha oscura orlada en fuego
que flota y ciega si se mira al sol.
Y dondequiera que la vista clavo
torno a ver sus pupilas llamear;
mas no te encuentro a tí, que es tu mirada,
unos ojos, los tuyos, nada más.
De mi alcoba en al ángulo los miro
desasidos fantásticos lucir:
cuando duermo los siento que se ciernen
de par en par abiertos sobre mí.
Yo sé que hay fuegos fatuos que en la noche
llevan al caminante a perecer:
yo me siento arrastrado por tus ojos,
pero adónde me arrastran no lo sé.
Rhyme XIV. I saw you as a spot and floating before my eyes...
I saw you as a spot and floating before my eyes
The image of your eyes remain,
As the dark spot wrapped in flame
Which floats and blinds one if you look at the sun
And wherever I fix my gaze
I see again your pupils in flames
But I cannot find you, just your gaze
Some eyes, yours, nothing more
From my nook in the angle I watch them
Dimly and fantastically glow
When I sleep I feel them that appear
Little by little open to me
I know there are fatuous fires which in the night
Lead the wanderer to perish
I feel my self dragged along by your eyes
But to where they lead my I know not.
Translated by Terry Rooney
Etiquetas: Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer
|posted by Bishop @ 10:14
Rima XIV. I SAW YOU FOR A BRIEF INSTANT...
I saw you for a brief instant, floating before my eyes
the sight of her eyes took hold in me
like the dark stain rimmed with fire
that floats and blind when looking at the sun.
Wherever I look
I behold again her flaming pupils,
but I don't find you, you are
your eyes, nothing more.
From the corner of my bedroom I see them
shining fantastically wild;
when I sleep I feel them raise,
wide open, staring at me.
I know that by night the will-of-the-wisp
leads the wayfarer to his death;
I am drawn by your eyes,
drawn, yet I do not know whereto.
Translated by Guia K. Monti
RHYME XIV. I SAW YOU FOR AN INSTANT...
I saw you for an instant, and, floating before my eyes,
the image of your eyes remained,
like the dark spot, bordered in fire,
that floats and blinds if I look at the sun.
Wherever I fix my gaze
it turns to see your pupils blaze;
but I do not find you; only your glance:
just eyes, yours, nothing more.
From the corner of my bedroom I watch them
let loose a fantastic light;
when I sleep I feel they are
hanging wide open over me.
I know there are faerie fires at night
that lead a traveler to his death:
I feel pulled by your eyes
but to where they pull me, I know not.
Translated by Howard A. Landman
RHYME XIV. I SAW YOU FOR AN INSTANT...
I saw you for an instant as if by breezes blown;
The image of your eyes remained imprisoned in my own.
Like dusky blots encircled with fire, that dazzle one
And seems to blind our vision while gazing at the sun.
Relentlessly pursuing wherever I may gaze,
I see their pupils follow me with a devouring blaze;
It is not you, who troubles me, the rest I could ignore;
It is your look, which haunts me, your eyes and nothing more.
In the corner of my alcove with wild disordered stare
I see them glowing, fixed on me in a fantastic glare.
And when I sleep, I feel them hover above and glow,
Awaiting the occasion to lay their victim low.
I've heard of exhalations illuminating gloom,
Which lead the trusting wanderer unto a wretched doom;
I feel myself drawn onward as by an undertow,
But where you eyes will lead me: alas, I do not know.
Translated by Jules Renard
RHYME XIV. I SAW THEE ONCE...
I saw thee once: and there before mine eyes
The image of thine eyes doth ever run;
Like to the dusky spot, berimmed with fire,
That blinding floats when one beholds the sun.
No matter whither I turn my gaze,
Always to I behold thy pupils' flare;
But never do I see thee - 'tis but thy glance;
Just eyes, thine eyes - nothing more is there.
Fitful and fantastical, their gleaming
There in my chamber's corner is descried;
Even while I am sleeping do I feel them
Hovering o'er me, eyes open wide.
I know that there are will-o'-the-wisps that lead
The nighting traveler to his death to go;
I feel myself drawn onward by thine eyes,
But whither they draw me - that I do not know.
Translated by Young Allison