love Torment
Vicente Aleixandre (Sevilla, 1898-1984)
I loved, I loved you, through your eyes, your lips, your throat, your voice, your heart
on violence.
I loved as my anger, my destiny furious without dawn
my stubbornness, my moon crushed. Eras
beautiful. You had big eyes. Palomas
large, swift talons, eagles high potent ... You had that fullness
a brilliant sky
where the clash of worlds is not a kiss in your mouth.
But I loved you like the moon loves the blood,
as the moon looks for blood in the veins,
supplanted as the moon crosses the blood and veins
furious yellow flushed with passion.
I do not know what death is, if you kiss her mouth.
not know what it is die. I do not die. I sing. Canto
dead and rotten as a bone brilliant, radiant
to the moon like a pure crystal. Canto
as meat, as the hard stone. Canto
your teeth fierce for words. Canto
its sole shadow, its sad shadow over the sweet
land where a tame grass.
No one cries. Do not watch this face
the tears do not live, do not breathe.
not look this rock, this flame of iron,
this body that resonates like a metal tower.
You had hair, sweet curls, eyes and cheeks.
had arms, and not Rivers Unlimited.
had your way, your beautiful border, your sweet meat
margin shaken.
was your heart as winged flag.
your blood But no, your life is not, your not evil!
Who am I to beg the moon my death?
Who am I to resist the wind, you feel the wounds of his frantic
knives,
you wet your drawing marble statue
a bloody hard by the storm?
Who am I have not heard the thunder, and my arm
bone with signs of lightning, and rain
bloody grass stains
is born in my foot bitten by a river teeth?
Who am I, who you are, who you know? Who
love, O thou beautiful mortal lover
glistening chest radiant
who or whom I love, what shadow, what meat
what rotten bones and flowers intoxicate me?
0 comments:
Post a Comment