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Invitación al viaje

Приглашение в путешествие

Partamos! ¿No te gustaría escuchar
a la hora en que se yergue el sol
las extrañas baladas y los cuentos
de las rosas de Abisinia?

Cuentos de antiguas reinas magas,
de leones coronados de flores,
de los ángeles negros, de las aves
que tienen su hogar entre las nubes.

Allí haremos de abeto nuestra casa:
esquineros de piedra le pondremos;
los paneles serán roja caoba
y los pisos serán de palisandro.

Hallaremos un viejo musulmán
que en monótona voz ha de leernos
la canción de Rustem y de Zorab,
y el amor de los reyes y las vírgenes.

En los montes donde el viento grita
cortaré la madera: altivos cedros
que vendrán olorosos de resina
y plátanos que se elevan hasta el cielo.

Tú estarás con las flores entretanto,
y he de regalarte una gacela
con los ojos tan tiernos que parezcan
el lejano cantar del caramillo.

Tendrás también un ave del paraíso
más hermosa que las rojas auroras
para adornar con sus alas irisadas
la milagrosa mata rubia de tu pelo.

Y cuando el carro de la vida
se deslice hacia la meta fatal,
sin pesar le veremos alejarse
y a la muerte diremos: “¿es hora ya?”

Sin tormentos, sin vagas fantasías
partiremos hacia el reino de Dios,
saludando con sonrisa clara
las regiones que ya vimos otra vez.


Другие переводы:


А вот еще:

Remember the palace of giants…

Remember the palace of giants, / The pool, full of silvery fish, / Alleys of planes, the highest, / And keeps made of huge stone bricks; / / As my golden horse at the towers / Was prancing, so proud and strong, / And gems decorated his harness / In patterns of delicate work. / / ...

The ship

"What d' you see in my eyes, slightly sparkling, / In my look, hazed with opaque mist?" / "There I saw the sea's deepest darkness / With a big sunken beautiful ship. / / That fine ship... More glorious and braver / None had seen over deep of the sea. / Its high masts under windbreath ...

A fragment of «Tale of Kings»

Once a dark horseman oh a black horse came / He was clad in a black velvet cloak, full of pride. / And his look was so dreadful, as a town aflame, / And so glaring as a flash in the night. / / Curly hair upon shoulders like serpents did twist, / And his voice was a song of the earth and...

Giraffe

Today, I can see that your glance is especially sad, / And hands are especially thin and the hair if up fluff. / Hey, listen, as far as in Africa, down at lake Chad / Is walking a graceful Giraffe. / / He's owing that elegance, slender and languor he is, / Such beautiful patterns are sh...

The Gates of Paradise

There are no seven diamond seals to close / the eternal gates of God's great paradise / it has no tempting charms, no beckoning glow / and to the people remains unrecognized. / / a doorway in a wall long since forsaken / a mass of stones and moss and nothing more. / nearby, a beggar, ...

A portrait of a man

His eyes are lightless underground lakes, / Abandoned castles of the ancient kings. / Marked with the sign of the eternal shame / Of that, the Other One, he never speaks. / The deepest wound, his mouth, dark and purple, / Made with a blade borne of the deadly poison; / And it is sad and ...