Francisco de Quevedo -Dafne, huyendo de Apolo- |
lunes, 20 de septiembre de 2004 |
Dafne, huyendo de Apolo
"Tras vos, un alquimista va corriendo, Dafne, que llaman Sol, ¿y vos tan cruda? Vos os volvéis murciégalo sin duda, pues vais del Sol y de la luz huyendo. Él os quiere gozar, a lo que entiendo, si os coge en esta selva tosca y ruda: su aljaba suena, está su bolsa muda; el perro, pues no ladra, está muriendo.
Buhonero de signos y planetas, viene haciendo ademanes y figuras, cargado de bochornos y cometas."
Esto la dije; y en cortezas duras de laurel se ingirió contra sus tretas, y, en escabeche, el Sol se quedó a escuras.
To Daphne, fleeing from Apollo
"An alchemist is running after you, Daphne, he's called the Sun, and you're so rude? Without a doubt you're acting like a bat, since Sun and light you so swiftly elude. He plans to have you, as I understand it, if he can catch you in this forest dark: his quiver's noisy, but his purse is voiceless; the dog must be near death, since it won't bark.
A hawker of the signs and of the planets, he's making funny faces, gesturing, all laden down with steamy days and comets."
This I said; and to stiff laurel bark she grafted herself on, to flee his wiles, and the Sun, pickled, was left in the dark.
Translated by Alix IngberEtiquetas: Francisco de Quevedo |
posted by Bishop @ 11:00 |
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