Gacela de la terrible presencia
Yo quiero que el agua se quede sin cauce.
Yo quiero que el viento se quede sin valles.
Quiero que la noche se quede sin ojos
y mi corazón sin la flor de oro;
que los bueyes hablen con las grandes hojas
y que la lombriz se muera de sombra;
que brillen los dientes de la calavera
y los amarillos inunden la seda.
Puedo ver el duelo de la noche herida
luchando enroscada con el melodía.
Resisto un ocaso de verde veneno
y los arcos rotos donde sufre el tiempo.
Pero no ilumines tu limpio desnudo
como un negro cactus abierto en los juncos.
Déjame en un ansia de oscuros planetas,
pero no me enseñes tu cintura fresca.
Gacela of the terrible presence
I wish the water to be without channel.
I wish the wind to be without valleys.
I wish the night might be without eyes
and my heart without the golden flower;
that the oxen might speak with great leaves
and the earthworm die of shadow;
that the teeth of skulls might gleam
and yellows inundate the silk.
I can see the duel of the wounded night
battling coiled with the noon.
I resist a sunset of green poison
and those broken arches where time suffers.
But do not illumine your clean nakedness
like a black cactus exposed in the rushes.
Leave me in a longing for dark planets,
but do not show me your fresh waist.
Translation by Gilbert Wesley PurdyEtiquetas: Federico García Lorca |
Gacela of the Terrible Presence
I want the river to lose its way.
I want the wind to quit the valley.
I want the night to lose its sight,
and my heart its flower of gold;
the cattle to speak to the great leaves,
and the worm to die of shadows;
the teeth on the skull to shine,
and the silk to be drowned in yellows.
I can see wounded midnight’s duel
struggling, knotted, with noon light.
I resist the broken arch, where time suffers,
and the green venom of twilight.
But do not make a black cactus,
open in reeds, of your nakedness.
Leave me afraid of dark planets,
but do not show me your calm waist.
Translated by A. S. Kline