Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro,
y a veces lloro sin querer….
Plural ha sido la celeste
historia de mi corazon.
Era una dulce niña, en este
mundo de duelo y afliccion.
Miraba como el alba pura;
sonreía como una flor.
Era su cabellera obscura
hecha de noche y de dolor.
Yo era timido como un nino.
Ella, naturalmente, fue,
para mi amor hecho de armiño,
Herodías y Salome….
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver….!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro,
y a veces lloro sin querer….
La otra fue mas sensitiva
y mas consoladora y mas
halagadora y expresiva,
cual no pensé encontrar jamás.
Pues a su continua ternura
una pasion violenta unia.
En un peplo de gasa pura
una bacante se envolvia….
En sus brazos tomo mi ensueno
y lo arrullo como a un bebe….
y lo mato, triste y pequeño,
falto de luz, falto de fe….
Juventud, divino tesoro,
te fuiste para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro,
y a veces lloro sin querer….
Otra juzgo que era mi boca
el estuche de su pasion;
y que me roería, loca,
con sus dientes el corazon
poniendo en un amor de exceso
la mira de su voluntad,
mientras eran abrazo y beso
síntesis de la eternidad;
y de nuestra carne ligera
imaginar siempre un Eden,
sin pensar que la Primavera
y la carne acaban tambien….
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro,
y a veces lloro sin querer….
Y las demas! en tantos climas,
en tantas tierras, siempre son,
si no pretextos de mis rimas,
fantasmas de mi corazon.
En vano busqué a la princesa
que estaba triste de esperar.
La vida es dura. Amarga y pesa.
Ya no hay princesa que cantar!
Más a pesar del tiempo terco,
mi sed de amor no tiene fin:
con el cabello gris me acerco
a los rosales del jardín….
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver….
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro,
y a veces lloro sin querer….
Más es mía el Alba de oro!
English Translation
Song of Autumn in the Springtime
Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…
My heart's celestial histories,
So countless were, could not be told.-
She was a tender child, in this
World of affliction manifold.
She seemed a dawn of pure delight;
She smiled as the flowers after rain;
Her tresses were like to the night
Fashioned of darknesses and pain.
I was timid and childlike shy.
I could not but have been this way:
She, to my love chaste as the sky,
Was Herodias and Salomé…
Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…
The other was more sensitive,
More quieting and loving-kind,
With greater will to love and live
Than I ever had hoped to find.
For with her grace of tenderness
A violence of love she had:
In a peplos of loveliness
Was hid a Maenad passion mad…
Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Wilted in me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…
Another fancied my lips were
A casket wrought to hold her love;
And wildly with the teeth of her
To gnaw my very heart she strove.
She willed all passionate excess;
She was a flame of love for me;
She made each ardorous caress
Synthesis of eternity.
She deemed our flesh a deathless thing,
And on desire an Eden reared,
Forgetting that the flowers of Spring
And of the flesh so soon are seared…
Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…
And the others! In many climes,
In so many lands, ever were
Merely the pretext for my rhymes,
Or heart-born fantasies of her.
I sought for the princess in vain,
She that awaited sorrowing.
But life is hard. Bitter with pain.
There is no princess now to sing!
And yet despite the season drear,
My thirst of love no slaking knows;
Gray-haired am I, yet still draw near
The roses of the garden-close….
Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…
Ah, but the golden Dawn is mine!
Notes
Translation by Salomón de la Selva, one of Nicaragua's major poets.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
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FAIL
From guest FAIL (contact)
The poem in Spanish has a wrong orthography!!
MOD MESSAGE
It would be of assistance if you could tell us what you think is the correct orthography so that we might correct it!
Jim
Oldpoetry Research Team -
Asi Asi
From guest hola!! (contact)
es fantastico pero mis estudiantes no podemos leer el poema porque no es divertido para ellos. -
Beautiful
From guest Rose (contact)
When I read the poem in Spanish...and then read the English translation...it doesn't seam to fit. Hmmm... but the poem is beautiful either way. -
fantasma?
From guest Mel (contact)
I'm not sure of the translation in stanza 14, from my understanding fantasma means ghost, not fantasies, and I feel that this translation loses the meaning of the original poem.
MOD MESSAGE
There are always differences of opinions over translations. See http://oldpoetry.com/column/show/126
Thanks for sharing your version and giving others a chance to see the alternative.
-
-
Songs of Autumn in the Spring
From guest Marisol Tuckler (contact)
If anybody think this is a poor translation, well, such person should go ahead and translate it!!! Not everybody has the skill to translate a poem keeping its essence. Mr. De La Selva did an excellent job. Unfortunately, it seems to me that the translation is missing one verse. Other than that, my profound respects and thanks to him for such a wonderful translation. Thank you. Si alguien piensa que la traduccion es mala,pues esa persona deberia de hacer la traduccion!!! No cualquiera tiene la habilidad de traducir un poema y mantener su esencia. El Sr. De La Selva hizo un excelente trabajo. Desafortunadamente, me parece que le hizo falta un verso. Independientemente de esto, mis mas profundos respetos y agradecimiento por tan buena traduccion. Gracias. -
Poem & translation
From guest Vince (contact)
This was the first time I've found and read the full poem, both in Spanish and in English translation. Mr. de la Selva labored a bit to preserve rhyme, but I was grateful for his effort. Fitzgerald also took liberties with "The Rubaiyat...", but it's all most of us know of that poem. Dario lived to be only 49, but saw what was to come, I think, like Burns in "Ode to a Field Mouse". I will save and visit this site. Thank you. -
Translation
From guest Ariel (contact)
Please review the translation - Sorry, but it is not a good one (actually, pretty bad)
Perhaps you could say why you find this such a poor translation and suggest another. MOD TEAM -
juventud divino tesoro....
From guest N. Salzer (contact)
Now I get it...what a beautiful translation! -
Juventud divino tesoro
From guest Andrea Ynigo (contact)
Este poema me duele y me acaricia a la vez!! Como me encanta decirla...
The OP Team says
Gracias. Alegre usted tuvo gusto de él -
Wonderful poem!!!
From guest Parth (contact)
The poem is a nice one and the translation is also very beautiful. I really enjoyed the poem and teh translation, and remembered my Dulcinea. -
excellent
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great
I have to say that this fascinating poem rides me,
To a wonderfull mood which I always wish to be. -
Good
wondrous!!!!!!!!
-
great
WOWNESS ^^ that was great!!!!!!!!!!! -
es un momento de paz y encuentro de la forma que don Ruben Dario compartia
gracias por compartir estos poemas conmigo.
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