SONETO DE LA DULCE QUEJA SONNET OF SWEET COMPLAINT
Federico García Lorcatrans. Brian Cole
No me dejes perder la maravilla
de tus ojos de estatua, ni el acento
que de noche me pone en la mejilla
la solitaria rosa de tu aliento.

Tengo miedo de ser en esta orilla
tronco sin ramas; y lo que más siento
es no tener la flor, pulpa o arcilla
para el gusano de mi sufrimiento.

Si tú eres el tesoro oculto mío,
si eres mi cruz y mi dolor mojado,
si soy el perro de tu señorío,

no me dejes perder lo que he ganado
y decora las ramas de tu río
con hojas de mi otoño enajenado.
Let me not lose the wondrous delight
of your eyes - like a statue's - nor the tone
that strokes my cheek all through the night
with your breath, a solitary rose.

Being on this shore is my dismay,
a branchless trunk; what worries me
is lacking flower, pulp and clay
to feed the worm of my own misery.

If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my tearful pain,
if I'm the dog and you the master,

don't let me lose what I have gained,
and deck the branches of your river
with leaves of my autumn, estranged.

Click here 2 for another translation of this poem.

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

Trans. copyright Brian Cole 2000


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