EL AMOR DUERME EN EL PECHO
DEL POETA
HIS LOVE SLEEPS ON THE BREAST OF
THE POET
Federico García Lorcatrans. Brian Cole
Tú nunca entenderás lo que te quiero,
porque duermes en mí y estás dormido.
Yo te oculto llorando, perseguido
por una voz de penetrante acero.

Norma que agita igual carne y lucero
traspasa ya mi pecho dolorido,
y las turbias palabras han mordido
las alas de tu espíritu severo.

Grupo de gente salta en los jardines
esperando tu cuerpo y mi agonía
en caballos de luz y verdes crines.

Pero sigue durmiendo, vida mía.
¡Oye mi sangre rota en los violines!
¡Mira que nos acechan todavía!
You will never understand the love I feel,
because you sleep on me, you are asleep.
And I conceal you, haunted, as I weep,
pursued by a voice of penetrating steel.

The law that shakes both flesh and stars that roll
is piercing now my breast so full of grief,
and turbid troubled words have sunk their teeth
into the wings of your relentless soul.

On steeds of light with manes of lucent green.
some people leap across the garden gate.
They want to see your body and my pain.

But keep on sleeping, my life's only mate,
and hear my broken blood as violins keen!
Look, even now they're lying there in wait!

Translation commissioned by Eric Helmuth, to be set to music.

Click here 2 for another translation of this poem.

Trans. copyright © Brian Cole 2000


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