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Torne en mi
boca el verso castellano
a decir lo que siempre está diciendo desde el latín de Séneca: el horrendo dictamen de que todo es del gusano. Torne a cantar la pálida ceniza, los fastos de la muerte y la victoria de esa reina retórica que pisa los estandartes de la vanagloria. No así. Lo que mi barro ha bendecido no lo voy a negar como un cobarde. Sé que una cosa no hay. Es el olvido; sé que en la eternidad perdura y arde lo mucho y lo precioso que he perdido: esa fragua, esa luna y esa tarde.
EWIGKEIT
Mi giri in bocca il verso castigliano
a dire quello che da sempre dice
dal latino di Seneca: l'orrenda
sentenza che tutto sarà del verme.
Giri a cantare pallida cenere
i fasti della morte e la vittoria
di regina retorica che pesta
sugli stendardi della vanagloria.
No. Quel che il mio fango benedisse
non lo andrò a negare come un codardo.
So che una cosa non esiste. E' l'oblio:
so che per l'eternità dura e arde
il molto ed il prezioso che ho perduto:
la forgia la luna e quella sera.
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Ewigkeit
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Let Spanish verse turn on my tongue, affirm
Once more in me what it has always said
Since Seneca in Latin: that true dread
Sentence that all is fodder for the worm.
Let it turn back with song to hail pale ash,
The calends of death, and the victory
Of that word-ruler queen whose footfalls smash
The banners of our empty vanity.
Not that. I'll cravenly deny not one
Thing that has blessed my clay. I know of all
Things, one does not exist: oblivion.
That in eternity beyond recall
The precious things I've lost stay burning on:
That forge, that risen moon, that evening-fall.
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Let Spanish verse turn on my tongue, affirm
Once more in me what it has always said
Since Seneca in Latin: that true dread
Sentence that all is fodder for the worm.
Let it turn back with song to hail pale ash,
The calends of death, and the victory
Of that word-ruler queen whose footfalls smash
The banners of our empty vanity.
Not that. I'll cravenly deny not one
Thing that has blessed my clay. I know of all
Things, one does not exist: oblivion.
That in eternity beyond recall
The precious things I've lost stay burning on:
That forge, that risen moon, that evening-fall.
*"Ewigkeit"
is German for "Eternity."
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here we are