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Оригинални текстови
Превод
1964
I
Ya no es mágico el mundo. Te han dejado.
Ya no compartirás la clara luna
ni los lentos jardines. Ya no hay una
luna que no sea espejo del pasado,
cristal de soledad, sol de agonías.
Adiós las mutuas manos y las sienes
que acercaba el amor. Hoy sólo tienes
la fiel memoria y los desiertos días.
Nadie pierde (repites vanamente)
sino lo que no tiene y no ha tenido
nunca, pero no basta ser valiente
para aprender el arte del olvido.
Un símbolo, una rosa, te desgarra
y te puede matar una guitarra.
II
Ya no seré feliz. Tal vez no importa.
Hay tantas otras cosas en el mundo;
un instante cualquiera es más profundo
y diverso que el mar. La vida es corta
y aunque las horas son tan largas, una
oscura maravilla nos acecha,
la muerte, ese otro mar, esa otra flecha
que nos libra del sol y de la luna
y del amor. La dicha que me diste
y me quitaste debe ser borrada;
lo que era todo tiene que ser nada.
Sólo que me queda el goce de estar triste,
esa vana costumbre que me inclina
al Sur, a cierta puerta, a cierta esquina.
1964
I
The world is not magical anymore. They have left you.
You won't share the clear moon
nor the slow gardens anymore. There isn't a
moon left that isn't a reflection of the past,
crystal of solitude, sun of agonies.
Goodbye mutual hands and temples
that love brought together. Today you only have
the loyal memory and the deserted days.
No one loses (you repeat vainly)
anything other than what he doesn't have and hasn't
ever had, but being brave isn't enough
to learn the art of forgetting.
A symbol, a rose, it tears you apart
and a guitar may kill you.
II
I won't be happy anymore. Maybe it doesn't matter.
There are so many other things in the world;
any instant is deeper
and more diverse than the sea. Life is short
and even though the hours are so long, a
dark wonder watches us,
death, that other sea, that other arrow
that frees us from the sun and from the moon
and from love. The joy you gave me
and took away from me has to be erased;
what used to be everything now has to be nothing.
Except I still have the pleasure of being sad,
that vain habit that tilts me
to the south, to a certain door, to a certain corner.
17
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Translation details
josevalqui
постављено 13 Feb 2017 - 20:39
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Jorge Luis Borges TOP 3
О преводиоцу
josevalquiУредник of Latin American Lyrics
Доприноси
- 386 превода
- 222 песама
- додао/ла 25 уметника
- решио/ла 5 захтева
- транскрибовао 4 песама
- 4 translation requests
- оставио/ла 76 коментара
- додао/ла 14 идиома
- захваљено 1935 пута
Матерњишпански
Течноенглески, немачки
1935
Коментари 2
Typo: "and took away from Me has to be erased;"
Nice catch! Thank you