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el sabroso oficio / del dulce mirar Góngora – ¡Qué difícil es entender la belleza! Günter Eich

viernes, 1 de junio de 2018

W.B. Yeats - La rueda




LA RUEDA

A través del invierno invocamos la primavera,
toda la primavera llamamos al verano,
y cuando ya resuenan los setos rebosantes
declaramos que lo mejor es el invierno.
Y después nada hay bueno
porque la primavera no ha venido.
No sabemos que aquello que perturba nuestra sangre
es sólo su nostalgia de la tumba.

W.B. Yeats


Versión de Enrique Caracciolo Trejo



THE WHEEL

Throughwinter-time we call on spring,
And through the spring on summer call,
And when abounding hedges ring
Declare that winter's best of all;
And after that there s nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come --
Nor know that what disturbs our blood
Is but its longing for the tomb.



Imagen:

Allegory of The Transience of Life

A vaulted tomb with a decomposing skeleton wearing a tattered shroud and a snake in its moth and eye socket; above within a Gothic arch is Moses holding the Tablets of the Law with the ten commandments; with three skulls in frontal and sideways positions.

Engraving with hand colour made by Master IAM of Zwolle, Netherland, 1480-1490 (c.).

(Assaf Kintzer)



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