[Preliminary note: digital edition from Madrid, Ricardo typographical Establishment Fe, 1884, collated with the edition Xesús critical Alonso Montero (Madrid, Cátedra, 1985) and Marina Mayoral (Madrid, Castalia, 1976).]
[I]
Banks of the Sar I
Down Through evergreen leaves
to hear strange noises,
and a sea of \u200b\u200bundulating greens,
mansion loving birds,
from my window I see 5
the temple that I loved.
The temple that I wanted ...
because I can not say now if you want, in the rough
swing that
relentlessly stirred my thoughts, I doubt if 10
sullen resentment
live together with love in my heart.
II
Again, after the struggle and uncertainty yields bitter
the wandering traveler who does not know where to sleep 15
morning
their dollars early is a short break my soul. Something
rest of this soft and flattering dark, 20
which it has, in the silent night,
of a loved one memory, that black
such
betrayals and immense, speaks at a time.
no longer cry ... and yet 25
overwhelmed and grieved my spirit, just
its narrow prison and gloomy darkness
dare leave to bathe in the light waves
fill space. 30
What if I were on foreign soil,
shy and sullen, I watch from afar
heights
forests and trails and flowers in every corner
where I waited 35
hope smiling.
III
I hear the sound then
touch my bed calling me with its echoes
came the dawn announced,
while, what sweet caress, 40
a ray of golden sun shone
my stay calm.
Pure air, light pink,
which arouse so happy!
I saw clouds of incense, 45
visions with golden wings
blue band bearing the
of faith in their eyes ...
That sun is the same, but they do not attend
my spell, 50
and through space and clouds, and water
in limbo confusing
and transparency in the blue air,
alas, and in vain the name and look. White
deserted road among the lush 55
hedgerows and forests and streams that embroider
its banks, with a pleasant mystery seems to draw me and giving me
to continue his line without end. 60
go down, then, that the way we leave the house
step
though sad, rugged and desert, which we
and changed
still full of white
65 ghosts who once adored.
IV
After useless fatigue, my strength exhausted, I fall into the path
friend, where a fountain flows
always serene and pure,
and uncertain gaze, I look for the plain 70
not know what empty shadow what hope or dead, I do not know what flower
late
virginal freshness that grows in the sandy and deserted road.
From behind the thick dark Trabanca Grove, gallantly
starts at the foot of the sidewalk 75
the Tower and its surroundings covered with foliage,
paying the rest in its branches look
when the broad plain of sun-bathed living
the blind eyes,
through space , joyful and dazzled. 80
Echoing lost a friend who dreams
affectionate accent, the familiar chirp
lazy
truck runs on the wind and reaches my ear, which in those days
beautiful and brilliant 85
that my cravings complaints were lovers, were
holy golden dreams and joys. Ruge
Dam
away ... and, of birds nest near
Fondóns rests;
hoopoe Candida baby in the gentle waters 90
where once I thought of hope
beautiful healthy drink nectar, and now eager
drink the waters of forgetfulness that brother's death ;
where the swifts flying at altitude, the shadow is reflected
, 95 lymph
and whose pure white water lily
shines through from the edge of the leafy vegetables.
V
How beautiful is your plain, oh Padrón, Iria Flavia oh!
More heat, young life and the sap
that I draw from your breast, 100
as the thirsty child the sweet juice
extracted white chest and full, dark
of my life in the bitter stream
passed, which swept the inconstancy blind
a vision in ermine, a beloved illusion, 105
a sigh of love.
Of your soft rumors the chord line, and for the soul
stiff and hard it became a brawl
to pain impulses;
secáronse your virginal flower fragrance, 110
your sky lost its blue, field freshness,
dawn his candor. Snow
the years, the ice
constant sadness, to deny any illusion beloved soul,
all sweet consolation. Only 115
disappointments fraught with fear, and doubt
cold, stoking
feels chest pains me,
and deepening my wound,
banish me from the sky, where fountains spring 120
eternal life. VI
O earth, then and now, always fruitful and beautiful! Seeing how sad
our fatal shining star of Sar
be the bank,
at the end, I feel 125
devouring thirst and never choke off that feeling,
and hunger for justice, that burns and annihilates when our cries
The wind snatches
angry storm. Already in vain
the warm ray of 130
aurora rising behind the lofty Miranda, valleys and peaks
dora live with her light;
in vain May sun reaches full aromas,
with your child in front of roses crowned with light
and serene: 135
in my heart go together hatred and love,
mixture of glory and grief, my temple
by the martyr's crown and forever burdened
cold and hit my breast. VII
Because of hope, for my life, sad and colorless
140 has reached the twilight,
my dark purple, dismantled and cold
tornado swept by step,
because his happiness does not increase my bitterness
the white light of day. 145
Contenta
the black bird nest looks ominous, it rests
the beast in the cave hidden in his grave
the dead, the sad oblivion
and soul into its desert.
[II]
ArribaAbajo The one soaring,
the other children, with their eternal
greenness and freshness that inspires
rugged souls songs, 5
while she moans when hitting the water
salty sea breeze aromas,
go in waves up into the sky
mountain pines.
height of the mist descends 10
and wrap tops
scented and lofty sound of those giant
the Castro crown;
shines in both his feet the stream 15
smiling
enlightening the light of dawn, crows
and shake their wings, squawking
and throwing
fleeing shadow. 20
The traveler, worn and tired,
that line the road is rough
that still remains to walk, longing,
stopping at the foot of the hill, suddenly
25
be turned into a bird or source in
tree or rock.
[III]
ArribaAbajo day was peaceful
and warm environment,
and raining, raining
quiet and meek, silent 5
and while I wept and wailed
,
my child, tender pink sleeping
died.
Fleeing from this world, what solace in his forehead!
When I see him walk away, what storm in mine! 10
Earth on
unburied corpse before it starts to rot ... Land!
hole already been covered, Calm,
soon removed the lumps grow
and vibrant green grass. 15
What you walk around looking for the graves grim
looking, cloudy thinking? Do not ocupéis
than dust again! Never
which rests in the tomb
must turn to love you or to offend. 20
Never! Is it true that everything
forever over now?
No, you can not finish what is eternal, nor can
endless immensity.
You left forever, but my soul waits 25
still desire love, and come and go
me well in my life,
where we have to find.
Something has been yours in my heart that will never die
, 30
and God, it is fair and he is good,
to disengage and never return.
In heaven, on earth, in the unfathomable
I shall find you and you'll find me.
No, you can not finish what is eternal, 35
can not be endless immensity.
More ... is true, has departed, never to turn
.
Nothing is eternal for man, one-day guest
in this earthly world 40
where born, lives and dies in the end,
which everything is born, lives and dies here.
[IV]
ArribaAbajo A firefly in the moss
and a star shines in the highest light flashes
abyss above and deep abyss
what is ultimately what you have and what remains?
thought in vain 5
investigates and looks into the unfathomable, science oh!
always, to reach the end,
ignore what is ultimately what ends and what remains. Kneeling before the rough
image
my mind, absorbed in the infinite, 10
unholy perhaps questioning
heaven and hell at once, I tremble and hesitate.
What are we? What is death? The bell with its echoes
answer my cries
from above, and effortlessly tears burning 15
bathe my face emaciated. What horrible
suffering! You
only you can see and understand, my God!
Is it true that you see? Lord, then, merciful and compassionate
20
my eyes again
blue band of benefactors who have lost faith,
and do not allow, no, crossing wandering orphan without
came over here
below the wilds of the life, 25
beyond the plains of emptiness.
Keep playing for the dead, and always mute
impassive face of the divine Redeemer, let
wrapped in shadows is the humble spirit. 30
Silence forever
only body with mystical accents
resonates beyond the deserted ship
under the gloomy arch. It ended
perhaps less my pain, 35
double-edged knife;
all, but certainly we
launches an abyss of horror into another abyss. Desert
the world, depopulated heaven,
sick soul and dust collapsed 40
the
sacred altar where is my fervent sighs heaved, broken into pieces
my God fell into the abyss, and to seek eagerly
only find 45
vacuum immense loneliness. Suddenly
angels from its high
marble niches, I looked sadly
and a sweet voice echoed in my ears: 50
"Poor soul, crying out and
at the foot of the Highest
but do not forget that the sky has never
the insolent cry of a heart
the vile matter 55
and formed Adam from the dust of their idols. "
[V]
ArribaAbajo Guess the sweet and fragrant spring heat
;
germs on earth
stirred uneasily in his loving desire,
and cross through the air, silent, 5
atoms that kiss to happen. Boil
young blood, they give
heart full of encouragement, and bold
the crazy dreams and create
thought that man is, the gods, immortal. 10
No matter what dreams are a lie, because after
true
is fortunate that dream dies,
wretch who lives without dreaming.
But how quickly in this sad world 15
all things go!
that dominates the vertigo believe it! Yesterday was
The cocoon is pink now, and soon
agostará
roses and plants the summer heat. 20
[VI]
ArribaAbajo Candente is the atmosphere;
Fox explores the deserted road;
becomes unhealthy stream of clean crystal clear water, and pine
still awaits kissing 5
fickle breeze. Awesome
silence overwhelms the countryside;
only hear buzzing insect
in the large, moist shady, 10
constant monotonous and dull
as the death rattle.
may well be called, in the summer, the noon hour
,
night man, tired of fighting, 15
irritate you more than ever
matter
awesome power and endless craving soul.
Return, oh, cold winter nights,
our other lovers of old days! 20
Tornado crudities your ice and cool the blood
inflamed by the summer unbearable and sad ...
Sad ... full of branches and spikes!
cold or heat, autumn or spring, 25
where ... where is the joy? Beautiful
stations are all mortal
for itself that saves, but for the soul
desolate orphan
there smiling and propitious season. 30
[VII]
ArribaAbajo A gentle river, a narrow path,
a bare field and a pine forest and the old bridge
rustic and simple
completing that pleasant solitude.
What is loneliness? To fill the world 5
sometimes just a single thought.
So today, tired of beauty, are
the bridge, the river and the pine deserts.
cloud or flower is not that enamored;
you, heart, sad or happy, 10
and pain and pleasure of the referee, dry
who inhabit the sea and makes the pole.
[VIII]
"Stop one point, thought restless
victory waiting for you,
love and glory you smile.
"None of this pleases you or chains?
"Leave me alone and forgotten, free, 5
I wander wandering in darkness illusion
my dear sweet
only there shamelessly kisses me.
[IX]
Moriah ArribaAbajo the sun, and withered leaves
of oaks, in the breeze, in quiet and scrambled
orders fell in the mud:
them, how beautiful as pure five
in April came to life.
It was whimsical and beautiful autumn.
is how beautiful and whimsical the joy!
For in the grave of the dead leaves were only
hopes and smiles. 10
Extinguióse light:
night came as the death and pain, gloomy
thunder broke, the river desbordóse
dragging in the water to the victims died
and blissful and happy ... 15
how beautiful and whimsical is the joy!
[X]
The rhythmic sound
wave and the wind roars, the uncertain
reflection that illuminates the jungle or the cloud
the chirping of a bird of passage, 5
the wild ignored perfume
the breeze steals the valley or the top,
worlds where they find shelter there souls
10
weight of the world succumb.
[XI]
Margarita
I
Silence, the hounds of the pack
damn!
not awaken the relentless fierce
sleeping quietly in his den.
Can not you see their jaws hanging 5
glory and honor, rest and happiness?
greyhounds howling continued ...
- murderous evil thoughts! -
and aroused the fearsome beast ...
- the passion that the poppy soul! - 10
And goodbye! at a time, goodbye
glory and honor, rest and happiness!
Sleep
II's elderly father, while she
by lamplight at night
contemplates noble and manly face 15
overwhelms a heavy sleep. Under
that sad face that grief blight should
grim visions come and go, black
daughters of the doubt. 20
... She trembles, wavers and quivers ...
do fear anything, or pain and anguish?
With an expression of infinite pity,
not know what prayers he mutters. Prayer
perhaps santa, perhaps impious, 25
lip trembling in spite of a decision, while within the soul
awareness
struggle against the passions.
rude and terrible battle fought
to the victim, who moved 30
restless sleep the sleep of the sad
who has become the face of fortune!
And he remains at rest, and she
leaving the room, through the mists of the night
is lost, and turns to dawn, 35
worn the veil ... in his look of anguish.
Meat, temptation, demon,
oh, which one of you is to blame?
Silence ...! Sleepy day
overlooking the distant heights, 40
and old awake, she smiling,
both hide their grief, and pretend
indifferent
delivered to sites of dark life.
III
The guilty silent, but talked about the crime ...
died aged 45, and it's senseless,
continued burning incense in his folly, the stupidity
to Black interests,
to roll into the deep abyss,
true to his bad, his pain slave. 50
Ah! When loved, how well could
to betray her virtue unspotted,
wasting the wealth of their spirit,
sell your body, condemn his soul?
is that amid the tainted glass 55
where his fiery thirst quenching,
an undying love of light atoms,
without staining, floating in the atmosphere.
[XII]
ArribaAbajo Thirsty sands on the beach
kisses feel the sun burned, and not far
, waves, always fresh, slowly roll
muttering. Poor
sands, my luck image: 5
do not know what happens to me looking at you, because as I suffer
, dry and silent
the endless torment of Tantalus.
But who know ...? Perhaps one day look
in that mysterious overcoming limits, 10
advance the sea until you reach
to quench your thirst unquenchable.
And who knows also if after so many centuries
impossible longings and desires,
finally quench their thirst burning soul 15
where seraphim love drink!
[XIII]
The sad
I
ArribaAbajo From
clumsy ignorance that confuses the petty and immense
the harsh injustice of the highest,
the deadliest rage small, it is not possible
they flee! when you and I know 5
looking as hungry fox
seeks the helpless dove in the fields;
and
will seek to hide their cowardly wrath, and in the bush,
in the city or in close retirement, 10
there goes! -Cry-there goes!, And there I insult and point with intimate
happy that ruthless and vengeful hand points to the sad
fugitive criminal.
II fell at last into the frothy, murky stout 15
current, and descended into the abyss
to not to continue on the
calm and smooth surface. In the depths of
noble heart and hurt,
sounded painful and cold hit 20
drowning the hope that it bring down the mood
haughty, and folding wings
grim and silent,
in dense fog enveloped his spirit.
III
You who achieve your dreams, 25
understand what their forward fouled?
You who gozasteis and suffer
You understand what their eternal tears?
And you, well, whose memories
are like the dawn fog dissipates, 30
do you know of that leads from his eternal regret
the soul!
IV
When the plant with the fresh zeal
carefully tip of a bud appears,
slowly creeping in the grass, 35
assails him and eats the snail.
When an atheist soul, in the deep darkness
fearful
shines a ray of faith, doubt is
and he tends his giant shadow. 40
V
At each fresh outbreak, every rose erect,
hundred drops of dew glittering in the rising sun;
but he sees that they are tears they shed the sad
to fertilize the land with his precious blood. Filled
is pleasing environment aromas, 45
waters and winds rhythmic murmur;
but he feels that with a dull roar muffled din
of silent screams and threats.
No doubt! Hundred new stars, the radiant light
to reach the deepest depths, 50
most beautiful ever
rays around him break the thick haze.
From Hope, "where the flower grows longed?
For him, wherever the sprout withers,
and selfishness under the frosts of sterile, 55
or because of disillusionment with the reduced shade.
in vain the vast sea and fertile plains, the
birds, flowers and fruit planting!
For the disinherited, just beneath the dark sky
that stillness that infuses the sadness. 60
VI flees
Whenever the living,
it speaks more to the dead,
is that when we render the fatigue
conducive to peace and sleep,
the body tends to rest, 65
the soul tends to the eternal. VII
Just as the wolf down a house,
case in the mountains is persecuted, the man fled
harasses sad
searched through the sad beasts a nursing home. 70
The sun warmed his dark cave,
pious veiled the moon dream,
wild tree gave fruit, the source
its pleasant cool waters.
Soon the sun's rays grew dim, 75
the moon in the mist veiled his countenance, withered
source, and the tree nególe,
to pair his shadow, wild fruit. Leaving the mountains
searched the plain
the fruit of another tree, the light of another sky, 80
and a deep river, called ignored
his lip and he entreated her pure waters thirsty. Already
vain, followed him relentlessly night
thirst and hunger that haunts kills;
and in vain, that no tree, no heaven, no river, 85
gave its fruit, light, and its waters.
And while oblivion, doubt and death
enlarge the shadows that surround him around,
in the distance beyond the light of life, hurting their eyes happy
flashes. 90
Happy mortal whom fortune favors
was always ... Silence!, Silence!,
if you see so many beings that are looking for the black
deep currents of Lethe.
[XIV]
Oaks
I
ArribaAbajo Back in time they were, and soul are filled with holy
memories
my beautiful land in the fields,
wealth of the poor was the fire,
that shine in the hut at the bottom, 5
warmed by the rigid members
cold and shivering
child hunger and old.
of sitting around the campfire,
in their mother's arms cradled the infant 10
robust;
was turning, the old
zealous in his gnarled fingers, to the spindle,
and cheerful glow of the flame, and
Young hung flour, 15
or already shelled
with his calloused hand and small,
golden ears of corn.
And
love of home heating in winter, poor peasant family 20
, forgot the harsh conditions of his fate
enemy;
and the elderly and children, happy
litter in their sleep, and sleeps
chick in the nest 25 when the wing
mother shelters him.
II
Under the relentless hatchet, how quickly fell on the ground
oaks!;
and cheerful rays of dawn, 30
what appears
bald top of the mountain!
Those who yesterday were forests and jungles
the rugged wilderness, where wrapped in sweet
35
mystery at daybreak
floating haze, lay the source
and serene
hidden among flowers and mosses, are now barren hills
bearing 40
deformed and black
its deep fissures.
no longer on them the birds sing their songs of love
or meet
when dawns on May 45
foliage remains of their bare oaks. Only
passing wind brings the eco
squawking crow,
wolf howling.
III
A dark stain and 50
overboard extensive tracts of mountain skirt, hardened legion
like to encamp on the steep mountain
of silent screams throwing threat. 55
are pine trees to the ground, naked
of his old clothes, they pay
with his wild trim that resists weather
to injury and crown of eternal
vegetables 60
the rough brambles Tree
hard and proud who likes to hear the rumor
Ocean
and moan with the sea breeze
the beach in the white desert, 65
I love you!, and my view
rests with pleasure in the warm reflections
your gallant cup
illuminate when bold highlights in the sky, bouncing
Gaslight, 70
vesper star greeting.
But you, the Celtic sacred oak, and you
, aphthous oak branches,
you are more beautiful with your foliage
that if the summit May 75
scallops sprinkled with fresh dew
where the rays of dawn breaks, and converts
deep thickets in mansion of glory.
Later in autumn, 80
when your leaves fall withered, oak
oh!, And with them generous
moss carpets,
how beautiful is the countryside;
the jungle, how beautiful! 85
In memory of those rumors that the death
day
rise from the depths
forest when the wind goes wailing and removed with wet
90
blow your leaves withered
while running
swelled the stream in its bed of fresh shores estremécese
thinking soul where the glories beloved sleep 95
of these people suffered,
silent waiting on his bed of thorns
hours to ring and get the day of expiry
with a sure hand, 100
of evil that oppresses him,
murderous force.
IV
Torna, oak, native tree, to shade loving
the bare mountain where once
105
bagpipes encouraged warrior of our souls
and compass was the dull echo of the song
maternal
wind and water,
in winter nights the infant in its cradle 110
wicker cooed. How beautiful
appear, oh oak!
of this soil on the tops
gallant and graceful in the gentle slopes where shady
extend your branches, 115
as
virgin pale face and golden hair rippling, rain
in
curls caressing the forehead of nacre. Torna
ready to populate our forests, 120
and that will make you that one
fairies time your shadow spun hero
Galician
fresh garlands!
[XV]
Alma that you run from yourself, what do you look
, senseless, on the other? If you
dried in the source of comfort, dry
all have to find sources.
What's in the sky stars still, 5
on earth and fragrant flowers!
Yes ... But no longer
those you loved and loved you, miserable.
[XVI]
When I think of wide wood
the golden sea of \u200b\u200bdead leaves that
autumn wind stirs soft breath, as deep anguish
clouds my soul, 5
troubles my chest, I wonder
:
"Why so stubborn, so faithful
memory has given me the sky?"
[XVII]
ArribaAbajo the old road along,
and a pine forest, and a font is,
that sprouting in the mossy rock
noisily down the valley,
and shining rays of the sun 5
among a sea of \u200b\u200bgreen is lost,
divided into clean streams that give life to wild flowers and Sar
merge, the river Which child
that placid sleep, 10
reflecting the blue of heaven,
slow runs in the foliage for cover.
not far away in deep grove of oaks, where silence
its wings spread,
and gives shelter to the genius propitious, 15
our nursing homes and countryside,
always there when I recall my shadows, or
name, respóndenme and forth.
[XVIII]
already sleeping in his grave
passions dream of nothing
is it, then suffering madness of spirit,
or worm that I carry in my womb? I only know
it is a pleasure that hurts, 5
which is a pain that haunt flattered,
flame of life feeds,
but without which life is extinguished.
[XIX]
thought it was your everlasting kingdom in the soul, and believed
your essence, immortal essence,
more, if you're just passing cloud,
illusions that come and go, rumors
wheel and wave 5
dies and is born again and again to roll,
all is sleep and lie on the ground,
not exist, really!
[XX]
ArribaAbajo feel that you already extinct in their midst,
vital flame,
you gave birth to your spirit, your body strength, youth
his soul.
your heat no longer tune your blood, 5
by winter frost, nor do
heartbeat, and lacking
of encouragement and hope.
mute, blind, insensitive,
without joys and torments, 10
which celestial body will be off and alone, lost
is on the expanse of heaven.
[XXI]
ArribaAbajo not go up so high, crazy thought,
than higher up deep down, nor can the soul
enjoy heaven while living wrapped
in the flesh.
why such large land 5
term always have major disasters.
[XXII]
ArribaAbajo never forget ...!
filled with wonder to hear the soul itself refugióse
and hesitated ... but at last, when the bitter reality
naked and sad,
before it broke through, wrapped in mourning, 5
silently witnessed catastrophe, which looked Jerusalem
walls forever buried in the dust. Desecration
nameless!
wherever the human soul intelligent, yields 10
big cult to worship the past, these forests
wild, these beautiful forests
secular, whose thick branches
shelter and shade loving
gave our parents were always 15
of favorite love places
that all respected saints.
No! In the old
shady oak, making the most barren
pleasant region, and forever keep
recorded 20
the indelible mark that they have left, never!, Ever!
with his steely-edged ax bold
could penetrate, or with certain severe blow
and down on the ground, which in field
enemy, the strong tree 25
long history and gnarled branches
soil is proud that vigorous sap
breeding and
monument that stands just one day no man
for work that God is in charge while 30
and immortal mother nature
incomparable artist.
And yet ...
there anything left standing! The arrogant
our Lebanese cedars, high
gigantic chestnut, secular, 35
gift from the eyes, the robust
and ancient oaks, whose trunks filled
of wrinkles, frown
monsters were like looking gaunt and grim
suggest that unknown worlds, 40
hoary oaks, under whose branches wandered silently
many stubborn, unrepentant dreamers ...
all land and ravaged everything! Already
no shelter, no shade, and freshness, 45 birds
fleeing and frightened to see his home broken, the wind moaning
tasteless, as she moans in the desert hills
where barren cliffs
only their path is, 50
white daffodils and daisies
that shone among the moss packed
stars which shine in height;
scented lilies, violets,
the Miosotis, 55 sky blue
-and that, along the shore undosa,
recordábanle the sad love of water that sat on the edge
that sweet phrase, always useless, but repeated
forever! "Forget me not" -, 60
all wilted and buried all
mercilessly
under the terrible weight of inert and logs. Gentle stream of Sar
among its placid waves silently dragging
65
offal of the sacred enclosure, and ax blows hard
resonating cavities, which often resonate
the
hammer to drive home a coffin nail. ..
Already in the wild and hidden place that
70 We both loved, and in the beautiful
place where souls
eagerly sought refuge, and in cheerful
flocks in the early spring,
together with the birds, people, 75
air, flowers and Light anxious,
going to breathe life and perfumes, her attire
stripped
richest monastery now stands as a sad old
skeleton. 80
so pleasing that eerie silence that enveloped
the cracked walls, perhaps happier regions
light fled in search of asylum.
bells echo 85 echo vibrant musical
deaf in a vacuum
they mercilessly made
around foreign hands, and the monotonous sound source
in the cloister alone seems sob
the jasmines, 90
which, like white snow, cornices adorned
mossy, and it seems sad
call by the beautiful village
who washed his paintings in the water
always bright stone basin 95
the touch of your hands and now has spent
seek another source of freshness.
saw and silent ... with silence
caused astonishment and grieves the soul!
If there where between roses and carnations 100
drag their revolts Turia waves
our talasen hands
gardens they planted their own, and love them,
his lip, the face of contempt
filled one after another injury we launched 105
- Barbarians! "I cried. And if we say
scented roses and carnations that will not be worth
ever, despite its beauty,
what a wheat field, and there where the flowers
compete with the beautiful, 110
dragging the plow, the yellow
eagerly harvest reaps. Petty
-even more than clumsy son-prorrumpirían
the fierce sons of the garden of Spain with harsh anger
raising the cry. 115
But we, if our forests felled
that have ever ... - There are so few! -
and others will
exercises his empire in what is ours,
things in life may seem vain and futile 120
to offend anyone or to any matter
if it is to that does,
dreamers who only understand to mourn
relentlessly for the living and the dead ... and perhaps even by the beautiful forests
without grief 125
indifferent destroys the woodcutter.
"What the ...? "Indignantly exclaims one to hear my cries
. Perchance the vast
clock tower has sunk
y no hay ya quien señale nuestras horas 130
soñolientas y tardas, como el eco
bronco de su campana formidable;
o en mis haciendas penetrando acaso
osado criminal, ha puesto fuego
a las extensas eras? ¿Por qué gime 135
así importuna esa mujer?
Yo inclino
la frente al suelo y contristada exclamo
con el Mártir del Gólgota: Perdónales,
Señor, porque no saben lo que dicen;
mas ¡oh, Señor! a consentir no vuelvas 140
que de la helada indiferencia el soplo
apague la protesta en nuestros labios,
que es el silencio hermano de la muerte
y yo no quiero my country die, but as Lazarus
, good God!, 145
resurrect the life he has lost;
and loud that the glory comes,
tell the world that there Galicia,
so full of value which thou hast done,
so great and so happy as it is beautiful. 150
0 comments:
Post a Comment