Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Translation Trashbin - 29. five Luis Cernuda love poems
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five Luis Cernuda love poems
I. Si el hombre pudiera decir lo que ama
If we could be but allowed to voice what we love,
If we could be but allowed to lift up our love for heaven to behold,
Like a cloud may be within the light of the sky;
If like decaying walls standing in the way,
To blot out the truth, we could be but toppled over,
leaving standing the truth of our love,
The truth of ourselves which cannot
Be spoken of as fame, riches or ambition,
But only love, or rather, yearning.
I could be the one who leads by example;
The one whose words, whose eyes, whose hands,
Proclaim before men the truth long shunned,
The integrity of his rightful love.
Release, I only know the release of being a captive from the one
Whose name I never hear without a feverish chill;
The one for whom this beggarly world is set aside,
The one for whom both day and night are enough for me,
And my temporal body and immaculate soul
Rise upon your temporal body and immaculate soul
Like errant driftwood the flooding tide shakes loose and lifts up
Freely, with the freedom of love,
The only release that exalts me,
The only release in which I die.
Thus, you explain my existence:
Having never known you, I would not live;
Having died without knowing you, I do not perish
Because then I’d never have had the chance to be.
II. Yo fui
I traveled there.
Smoldering column of neck, the moon’s prime springtime,
Shimm’ring sea of gold, eyes grown large.
I reached for what I had in mind;
Reasoning like sluggish sleep must do with the dawn,
With desires he paints in our teenage hearts and days.
I sang out, I ascended high
And I went to the light one day,
Drawn up by the smoldering wick.
Like a blast of wind strong enough
To penetrate and cast out shadows,
I rocked back, into black,
Into the world’s unquenchable self.
I’ve been there.
III. Con tal vehemencia el viento
With such force of arms
Does the wind come off of the sea,
Its elemental sound contages
The tranquility of the night.
It’s only in your bed, alone, you hear
Him adamant on the windowpanes,
Beseeching, moaning, calling for you
As if he has no one else to call his own.
But he is not the one who keeps you awake,
For another powerful element holds you
Locked away in the prison of your body,
And remembers, his is an un-trapped air.
IV. La Vida
It’s like when the sun finally creeps upon
Some shadowy, far corner of earth,
Dispelling its impoverishment
As his light spills over with green laughter.
That’s how your presence comes upon
The shaded dinge of my quiet existence,
To stretch as you exalt it, and to give
Splendor, joy and beauty to my life.
But, as you also dress yourself
In the sun’s raiment and nurture things
All around me, your shadow casts from me
Shades of loneliness, old age and death.
V. He venido para ver semblantes
I’ve come to see the outward face of things
Be as loving as brooms of old switches;
I’ve come to see the façades of shadows
That have been smirking at me from afar.
I’ve come to see rows marking out the soil,
Or standing upright like indifferent men;
I’ve come to see rapacious belongings,
The things here, as sleep-induced and troubled.
I’ve come to see the rich life of the seas
Lay dormant on a small Italian boat;
I’ve come to see openings shut to me
By Findings, Courts, Powers over the privates
Of a glowing comprehension, fractured.
I have come to slowly recognize death
With his funny little butterfly net;
I have slowly come to wait for you too,
My arms deployed a little in the air;
I’ve arrived where we are and don’t know how –
Just one day, my eyes opened, and I’d come.
This is why I wish to hail so many
Nicer aspects with no limiting fear:
Of my dark baby-blue amigos,
Of the variable colors of the days –
The freedom of the color of my eyes –
The young boys so buoyant and light as silk,
Interment stories as dull as their stones,
And Certainty, that insect nestled in
The ever-shifting flywheels of the light.
So, fare thee well, my sweet unseen lovers,
I’m sorry I cannot sleep in your arms;
I seemed only to come here for kisses,
And might again for your lips; stay on guard.
~
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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