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Poemas en Inglés es un blog que pretende acercar poemas de lengua inglesa al castellano |
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"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 |
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Pablo Neruda -Soneto LXXIX- |
miércoles, 13 de abril de 2005 |
Soneto LXXIX
De noche, amada, amarra tu corazón al mío y que ellos en el sueño derroten las tinieblas como un doble tambor combatiendo en el bosque contra el espeso muro de las hojas mojadas.
Nocturna travesía, brasa negra del sueño interceptando el hilo de las uvas terrestres con la puntualidad de un tren descabellado que sombra y piedras frías sin cesar arrastrara.
Por eso, amor, amárrame el movimiento puro, a la tenacidad que en tu pecho golpea con las alas de un cisne sumergido,
para que a las preguntas estrelladas del cielo responda nuestro sueño con una sola llave, con una sola puerta cerrada por la sombra.
Sonnet 79
Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves.
Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly.
Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan,
So that our dream might reply to the sky’s questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.Etiquetas: Pablo Neruda |
posted by Bishop @ 2:19 |
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1 Comments: |
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By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness like a double drum in the forest, pounding against the thick wall of wet leaves.
Night travel: black flame of sleep that snips the threads of the earth's grapes, punctual as a headlong train that would haul shadows and cold rocks, endlessly.
Because of this, Love, tie me to a purer motion, to the constancy that beats in your chest with the wings of a swan underwater,
so that our sleep might answer all the sky's starry questions with a single key, with a single door the shadows had closed.
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By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two
together in their sleep will defeat the darkness
like a double drum in the forest, pounding
against the thick wall of wet leaves.
Night travel: black flame of sleep
that snips the threads of the earth's grapes,
punctual as a headlong train that would haul
shadows and cold rocks, endlessly.
Because of this, Love, tie me to a purer motion,
to the constancy that beats in your chest
with the wings of a swan underwater,
so that our sleep might answer all the sky's
starry questions with a single key,
with a single door the shadows had closed.