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Orijinal şarkı sözleri
Oda al gato
Los animales fueron imperfectos,
largos de cola, tristes
de cabeza.
Poco a poco se fueron
componiendo,
haciéndose paisaje,
adquiriendo lunares, gracia, vuelo.
El gato,
sólo el gato
apareció completo
y orgulloso:
nació completamente terminado,
camina solo y sabe lo que quiere.
El hombre quiere ser pescado y pájaro,
la serpiente quisiera tener alas,
el perro es un león desorientado,
el ingeniero quiere ser poeta,
la mosca estudia para golondrina,
el poeta trata de imitar la mosca,
pero el gato
quiere ser sólo gato
y todo gato es gato
desde bigote a cola,
desde presentimiento a rata viva,
desde la noche hasta sus ojos de oro.
No hay unidad
como él,
no tienen
la luna ni la flor
tal contextura:
es una sola cosa
como el sol o el topacio,
y la elástica línea en su contorno
firme y sutil es como
la línea de la proa de una nave.
Sus ojos amarillos
dejaron una sola
ranura
para echar las monedas de la noche.
Oh pequeño emperador sin orbe,
conquistador sin patria,
mínimo tigre de salón, nupcial
sultán del cielo de las tejas eróticas,
el viento del amor en la intemperie,
reclamas cuando pasas
y posas cuatro pies delicados
en el suelo, oliendo,desconfiando
de todo lo terrestre,
porque todo es inmundo
para el inmaculado pie del gato.
Oh fiera independiente de la casa,
arrogante vestigio de la noche,
perezoso, gimnástico y ajeno,
profundísimo gato, policía secreta
de las habitaciones, insignia de un
desaparecido terciopelo.
Seguramente no hay enigma
en tu manera.
Tal vez no eres misterio,
Todo el mundo te sabe y perteneces
al habitante menos misterioso.
Tal vez todos lo creen,
todos se creen dueños,y propietarios,
tíos de gatos, compañeros,
colegas, discípulos o amigos
de su gato.
Yo no.
Yo no suscribo.
Yo no conozco al gato.
Todo lo sé; la vida y su archipiélago,
el mar y la ciudad incalculable,
la botánica, el gineceo con sus extravíos,
el por y el menos de la matemática,
los embudos volcánicos del mundo,
la cáscara irreal del cocodrilo,
la bondad ignorada del bombero,
el atavismo azul del sacerdote,
pero no puedo descifrar un gato.
Mi razón resbaló en su indiferencia,
sus ojos tienen números de oro.
Freda tarafından 2019-01-09 tarihinde eklendi.Çeviri
Ode to the cat
The animals were imperfect,
long tails, sad-looking
heads.
Little by little they started
to improve,
making themselves part of the landscape,
acquiring spots, grace, flight.
The cat,
only the cat,
appeared complete
and proud:
born completely finished,
walks alone and knows what it wants.
A man wants to be a fish and a bird,
the serpent would like to have wings,
the dog is a disoriented lion,
the engineer wants to be a poet,
the fly studies to be a swallow,
the poet tries to imitate the fly,
but the cat
only wants to be a cat
and every cat is a cat
from whiskers to tail,
from sensing the presence of a live rat,
from the night to his golden eyes.
There is no single unit
like it,
neither the moon nor the flower
have such a physique;
it is only one thing
like the sun or the topaz,
and the resilient line of its contour
firm and subtle as is
the line of the prow of a ship.
Its yellow eyes
left a single
slot
to drop in the night's coins.
Oh little emperor without a world,
conquerer without a homeland,
miniscule tiger of the living room, nuptial
sultan of the ceiling of erotic tiles,
the wind of love in the open air,
you claim when you pass by
and you pose four delicate feet
on the floor, smelling, suspicious
of everything terrestrial,
because everything is foul
to the immaculate foot of the cat.
Oh independent beast of the house,
arrogant vestige of the night,
lazy, gymnastic and foreign,
profoundly a cat, secret police
of the bedrooms, an insignia of
vanished velvet.
Surely there is no mystery
in your method.
Perhaps you aren't mysterious.
The whole world knows you and you belong
to the inhabitant less mysterious.
Maybe everyone believes it,
everyone believes they are the owners and proprietors,
the cat's uncles, companions,
colleagues, disciples or friends
of their cat.
I don't.
I don't subscribe to that.
I don't know the cat.
I know everything; life and its archipelago,
the sea and the immense city,
botany, the gynoecium1 with its deviations,
the plus and minuses of mathematics,
the volcanic funnels of the world,
the unreal hide of the crocodile,
the ignored kindness of firemen,
the blue atavism of the priest,
but I cannot figure out a cat.
My logic slipped in its indifference,
its eyes have golden numbers.
- 1. The pistil or pistils of a flower
| Teşekkür Et! ❤ |  |  |
| 19 teşekkür aldı | ||
Freda tarafından 2019-01-09 tarihinde eklendi.Freda tarafından en son 2022-07-02 tarihinde düzenlendi✕
Pablo Neruda: En İyi 3
| 1. | Soneto XVII |
| 2. | Poema 20 |
| 3. | No culpes a nadie |
Yorumlar
Freigeist 
Igeethecat
Perş, 10/01/2019 - 06:34
Miau, meow, мяу 🐱
I like your translation
If I may ask, what does
todos se creen dueños,y propietarios / everyone believe themselves owners and proprieters
mean?
I think, there’s some typos in English translation, but I really want to know how this line should be translated, so I can understand what it means :)
Thanks
Freda
Perş, 10/01/2019 - 20:32
Thank you, I think everything he says about cats is so true!
I corrected the typos that I noticed in this line - believeS & proprietOrs. If there's something else, let me know.
I changed the line to read "everyone believes THEY are the owners..." , "themselves" sounded pretty clumsy.
I take that line to mean that the cat thinks they own the people, not the other way around.
A proprietor can be either a property owner or landlord of their property, but the cat just thinks it all belongs to him,
he just lets you live there.
Russia is waging a disgraceful war on Ukraine. Ukrayna'nın Yanında Olun!
Çeviren Hakkında
From his book, "Navegaciones y regresos" (Voyages and Homecomings).