From Lope de Vega

17 02 2010

¿Qué tengo yo que mi amistad procuras?
¿Qué interés se te sigue, Jesús mío,
que a mi puerta, cubierto de rocío,
pasas las noches del invierno escuras?

¡Oh, cuánto fueron mis entrañas duras,
pues no te abrí! ¡Qué estraño desvarío
si de mi ingratitud el yelo frío
secó las llagas de tus plantas puras!

¡Cuántas veces el ángel me decía:
Alma, asómate agora a la ventana,
verás con cuánto amor llamar porfía!

¡Y cuántas, hermosura soberana:
Mañana le abriremos — respondía –,
para lo mismo responder mañana!

-Félix Lope de Vega y Carpio, Rimas sacras, Soneto XVIII

******************************************

Lord, what am I, that, with unceasing care,
Thou didst seek after me, that thou didst wait,
Wet with unhealthy dews, before my gate,
And pass the gloomy nights of winter there?

Oh, strange delusion, that I did not greet
Thy blest approach! and oh, to Heaven how lost,
If my ingratitude’s unkindly frost
Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon thy feet!

How oft my guardian angel gently cried
“Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see
How he persists to knock and wait for thee!”

And, oh! how often to that voice of sorrow,
“To-morrow we will open,” I replied,
And when the morrow came I answered still, “To-morrow.”

-translation from from 1893 Cambridge ed. of THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW


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25 11 2011
poppen de

This could be this blogs best piece of writing to date…

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