| Pablo Neruda -Soneto XXXVI- |
| lunes, 11 de abril de 2005 |
Soneto XXXVI
Corazón mío, reina del apio y de la artesa:
pequeña leoparda del hilo y la cebolla:
me gusta ver brillar tu imperio diminuto,
las armas de la cera, del vino, del aceite,
del ajo, de la tierra por tus manos abierta
de la sustancia azul encendida en tus manos,
de la transmigración del sueño a la ensalada,
del reptil enrollado en la manguera.
Tú con tu podadora levantando el perfume,
tú, con la dirección del jabón en la espuma,
tú, subiendo mis locas escalas y escaleras,
tú, manejando el síntoma de mi caligrafía
y encontrando en la arena del cuaderno
las letras extraviadas que buscaban tu boca.
Sonnet 36
My heart, queen of the beehive and the barnyard,
little leopard of the string and the onions,
I love to watch your miniature empire
sparkle: your weapons of wax and wine and oil,
garlic, and the soil that opens for your hands,
the blue material that ignites in your hands,
the transmigration of dream into salad,
the snake rolled up in the garden hose.
You with your sickle that lifts the perfumes,
you with the bossy soapsuds,
you climbing my crazy ladders and stairs.
You taking charge: even my handwriting, its characteristics,
even the sand grains in my notebooks--finding in those pages
lost syllables that were searching for your mouth.
Translated by Stephen TapscottEtiquetas: Pablo Neruda |
posted by Bishop @ 1:36  |
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