| Federico García Lorca -Baladilla de los tres ríos- |
| martes, 13 de septiembre de 2005 |
Baladilla de los tres ríos
A Salvador Quintero
El río Guadalquivir
va entre naranjos y olivos.
Los dos ríos de Granada
bajan de la nieve al trigo.
¡Ay, amor
que se fue y no vino!
El río Guadalquivir
tiene las barbas granates.
Los dos ríos de Granada,
uno llanto y otro sangre.
¡Ay, amor
que se fue por el aire!
Para los barcos de vela,
Sevilla tiene un camino;
por el agua de Granada
sólo reman los suspiros.
¡Ay, amor
que se fue y no vino!
Guadalquivir, alta torre
y viento en los naranjales.
Darro y Gentil, torrecillas
muertas sobre los estanques.
¡Ay, amor
que se fue por el aire!
¡Quién dirá que el agua lleva
un fuego fatuo de gritos!
¡Ay, amor
que se fue y no vino!
Lleva azahar, lleva olivas,
Andalucía, a tus mares.
¡Ay, amor
que se fue por el aire!
Little ballad of the three rivers
For Salvador Quintero
The river Guadalquivir
flows through orange and olive trees.
The two rivers of Granada
fall from snow to wheat.
Oh love
that left and did not return.
The river Guadalquivir
has a crimson-coloured beard.
The two rivers of Granada:
one weeping and the other blood.
Oh love
that left and did not return
Seville now has a road
for sailing ships;
on the waters of Granada
nothing rows but sighs.
Oh love
that left and did not return.
Guadalquivir, high tower
and wind in the orange groves.
Darro and Genil, little towers
dead above the pools.
Oh love
that left and did not return.
Who would guess the water bears
A will-o'-the-wisp of cries!
Oh love
that left and did not return
Take olives, Andalusia,
Take orange blossom to your seas.
Oh love
that left and did not return.
Translated by Tim ChilcottEtiquetas: Federico García Lorca |
posted by Bishop @ 13:00  |
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The Little Ballad of the Three Rivers
The Guadalquivir’s river
runs past oranges and olives.
The two rivers of Granada,
fall, to wheatfields, out of snow.
Ay, Love, that goes,
and never returns!
The Guadalquivir’s river
has a beard of clear garnet.
The two rivers of Granada
one of sorrow, one of blood.
Ay, Love,
vanished down the wind!
For the sailing-boats,
Seville keeps a roadway:
Through the waters of Granada
only sighs can row.
Ay, Love, that went,
and never returned!
Guadalquivir – high tower,
and breeze in the orange-trees.
Dauro, Genil – dead turrets,
dead, above the ponds.
Ay, Love,
vanished down the wind!
Who can say, if water carries
a ghost-fire of cries?
Ay, Love, that went,
and never returned!
Take the orange petals,
take the leaves of olives,
Andalusia, down to your sea.
Ay, Love,
vanished on the wind!
Translated by A. S. Kline
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The Little Ballad of the Three Rivers
The Guadalquivir’s river
runs past oranges and olives.
The two rivers of Granada,
fall, to wheatfields, out of snow.
Ay, Love, that goes,
and never returns!
The Guadalquivir’s river
has a beard of clear garnet.
The two rivers of Granada
one of sorrow, one of blood.
Ay, Love,
vanished down the wind!
For the sailing-boats,
Seville keeps a roadway:
Through the waters of Granada
only sighs can row.
Ay, Love, that went,
and never returned!
Guadalquivir – high tower,
and breeze in the orange-trees.
Dauro, Genil – dead turrets,
dead, above the ponds.
Ay, Love,
vanished down the wind!
Who can say, if water carries
a ghost-fire of cries?
Ay, Love, that went,
and never returned!
Take the orange petals,
take the leaves of olives,
Andalusia, down to your sea.
Ay, Love,
vanished on the wind!
Translated by A. S. Kline