| Félix Lope de Vega -El buen pastor- |
| miércoles, 16 de noviembre de 2005 |
El buen pastor
Pastor, que con tus silbos amorosos
me despertaste del profundo sueño;
tú, que hiciste cayado de ese leño
en que tiendes los brazos poderosos;
vuelve los ojos a mi fe piadosos,
pues te confieso por mi amor y dueño,
y la palabra de seguir empeño
tus dulces silbos y tus pies hermosos.
Oye, Pastor, pues por amores mueres,
no te espante el rigor de mis pecados,
pues tan amigo de rendidos eres;
espera, pues, y escucha mis cuidados;
pero ¿cómo te digo que me esperes,
si estás, para esperar, los pies clavados?
The good shepherd
Shepherd! who with thine amorous, sylvan song
Hast broken the slumber that encompassed me,
Who mad'st Thy crook from the accursed tree
On which Thy powerful arms were stretched so long!
Lead me to mercy's ever-flowing fountains;
For Thou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt be;
I will obey Thy voice, and wait to see
Thy feet all beautiful upon the mountains.
Hear, Shepherd Thou who for Thy flock art dying,
Oh, wash away these scarlet sins, for Thou
Rejoicest at the contrite sinner's vow.
Oh, wait! to Thee my weary soul is crying,
Wait for me: Yet why ask it, when I see,
With feet nailed to the cross, Thou'rt waiting still for me!
Translated by Henry Wadsworth LongfellowEtiquetas: Lope de Vega |
posted by Bishop @ 14:00  |
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THE DIVINE SHEPHERD
Shepherd, who with loving whistled notes
awakened me from the profoundest sleep;
you, who made a crook out of that wood
and now extend your powerful arms there:
turn your eyes with mercy on my faith,
for I confess that you're my love and lord
and pledge to you my word that I'll pursue
your gentle whistles and your feet so fair.
Listen, Shepherd, since you die for love,
don't take fright at the rigor of my sins,
since you're a friend of those crushed by defeat.
Translated by Alix Ingber
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THE DIVINE SHEPHERD
Shepherd, who with loving whistled notes
awakened me from the profoundest sleep;
you, who made a crook out of that wood
and now extend your powerful arms there:
turn your eyes with mercy on my faith,
for I confess that you're my love and lord
and pledge to you my word that I'll pursue
your gentle whistles and your feet so fair.
Listen, Shepherd, since you die for love,
don't take fright at the rigor of my sins,
since you're a friend of those crushed by defeat.
Translated by Alix Ingber