from RIMAS I, del LIBRO
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer trans. James H. Donalson
Saeta que voladora
cruza arrojada al azar,
sin adivinarse dónde
temblando se clavará

hoja que del árbol seca
arrebata el vendaval,
sin que nadie acierte el surco
donde a caer volverá

gigante ola que el viento
riza y empuja en el mar,
y rueda y pasa, y no sabe
qué playa buscando va;

luz que en cercos temblorosos
brilla, próxima a expirar,
ignorándose cuál de ellos
el último brillará:

eso soy yo, que al acaso
cruzo el mundo, sin pensar
de dónde vengo, ni adónde
mis pasos me llevarán.
Arrow flying thru the heavens
shot off and crossing by chance,
no one ever ventures guesses
where it will tremblingly fall;

withered leaf of autumn forest
battered by southerly blast,
no one knowing in which hollow
it will happen soon to fall;

giant wave the wind and weather
twists and tosses out at sea,
rolling, passing, never knowing
on what beach it comes to fall;

light of wisps or vibrant haloes
shining, but only to fade,
not knowing which of their number
will shine on the last of all:

such am I, perhaps by hazard
crossing the earth come what may,
never knowing whence nor whither
my steps carry me today.

Click here 2 for another translation of this poem.

Trans. copyright © James H. Donalson 2003

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