Los elementos de la noche
Bajo el mínimo imperio que el verano ha roído
se derrumban los días, la fe, las previsiones.
En el último valle
la destrucción se sacia
en ciudades vencidas que la ceniza afrenta.
La lluvia extingue
el bosque iluminado por el relámpago.
La noche deja su veneno.
Las palabras se rompen contra el aire.
Nada se restituye, nada otorga
el verdor a los campos calcinados.
Ni el agua en su destierro
sucederá a la fuente
ni los huesos del águila
volverán por sus alas.
The elements of the night
Beneath this small, dry empire summer has whittled down,
faith lies toppled—all those tall, farsighted days.
In the last valley
destructiveness is glutted
on conquered cities, affronted by the ash.
Rain extinguishes
the woodland lit by lightning.
Night passes on its venom
Words crack against the air.
Nothing is restored, nothing gives back
that glowing green to the scorched fields.
Neither will the water, in its exile
from the fountain, succeed its own sweet
rise, nor the bones of the eagle fly
through its wings again.
Translated by George McWhirter and Alastair Reid Etiquetas: José Emilio Pacheco |
THE ELEMENTS OF THE NIGHT
Under the smallest empire which the summer eroded,
fall into decay the days, faith and expectancies.
In the last valley
destructiveness is glutted
in conquered cities, affronted by the ash.
The rain extinguishes
the woodlands lit by lightning.
The night leaves its venom.
The words fall apart against the air.
Nothing is restored; nothing returns
the green to the scorched fields.
Neither will the exiled water
appear at the fountain
nor will the bones of the eagle
return to its wings.
Translation by Germain Droogenbroodt