(1836-1870) Volverán las oscuras golondrinas Volverán las oscuras golondrinas en tu balcón sus nidos a colgar, y, otra vez, con el ala a sus cristales jugando llamarán; pero aquéllas que el vuelo refrenaban 5 tu hermosura y mi dicha al contemplar, aquéllas que aprendieron nuestros nombres... ésas... ¡no volverán! Volverán las tupidas madreselvas de tu jardín las tapias a escalar, 10 y otra vez a la tarde, aun más hermosas, sus flores se abrirán; pero aquéllas, cuajadas de rocío, cuyas gotas mirábamos temblar y caer, como lágrimas del día... 15 ésas... ¡no volverán! Volverán del amor en tus oídos las palabras ardientes a sonar; tu corazón, de su profundo sueño tal vez despertará; 20 pero mudo y absorto y de rodillas, como se adora a Dios ante su altar, como yo te he querido..., desengáñate: ¡así no te querrán!
Thank you mividayyo .
The Black Swallows will return (Rima LIII)
translated by Guia K. Monti
The black swallows will return
to nest on your balcony,
and with their wings they will knock
playfully at its windows.
But those who slowed down in their flight
to contemplate your beauty and my happiness,
those who learnt our names...
those....will not return!
The luscious honeysuckle will again
climb the walls of your garden,
and, even more beautiful in the afternoon,
its flowers will bloom again.
But those flowers adorned by dew -
drops we watched to tremble
and fall, as if they were the day's tears...
those... will not return!
Ardent words of love will echo again in your ears,
your heart from its deep slumber
will perhaps awaken.
Mute, lost in thought and kneeling in worship
as if by the altar of a God,
that is how I loved you...; don't deceive yourself,
nobody will love you so!
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
I’d have to be really quick
to describe clouds—
a split second’s enough
… for them to start being something else.
they don’t repeat a single
shape, shade, pose, arrangement.
Unburdened by memory of any kind,
they float easily over the facts.
What on earth could they bear witness to?
They scatter whenever something happens.
Compared to clouds,
life rests on solid ground,
practically permanent, almost eternal.
Next to clouds
even a stone seems like a brother,
someone you can trust,
while they’re just distant, flighty cousins.
Let people exist if they want,
and then die, one after another:
clouds simply don’t care
what they’re up to
And so their haughty fleet
cruises smoothly over your whole life
and mine, still incomplete.
They aren’t obliged to vanish when we’re gone.
They don’t have to be seen while sailing on.
— Wisława Szymborska
(Translated by Stanisław Barańczak and Clare Cavanagh)
Source: Poetry (April 2002).
Chant for the Transmutation of Metals
SAÎL of Claustra, Aelis, Azalais,
As you move among the bright trees;
As your voices, under the larches of Paradise
Make a clear sound,
Saîl of Claustra, Aelis, Azalais,
Raimona, Tibors, Berangèrë,
‘Neath the dark gleam of the sky;
Under night, the peacock-throated,
Bring the saffron-coloured shell,
Bring the red gold of the maple,
Bring the light of the birch tree in autumn
Mirals, Cembelins, Audiarda,
Remember this fire.
Elain, Tireis, Alcmena
‘Mid the silver rustling of wheat,
Agradiva, Anhes, Ardenca,
From the plum-coloured lake, in stillness,
From the molten dyes of the water
Bring the burnished nature of fire;
Briseis, Lianor, Loica,
From the wide earth and the olive,
From the poplars weeping their amber,
By the bright flame of the fishing torch
Remember this fire.
Midonz, with the gold of the sun, the leaf of the popIar,
by the light of the amber,
Midonz, daughter of the sun, shaft of the tree,
silver of the leaf, light of the yellow of the amber,
Midonz, gift of the God, gift of the light,
gift of the amber of the sun,
Give light to the metal…(more)
I felt the world at a finger tip,
I am medicated on absence
You are the mirror to me,
My existential mess,
Superiority and minority thought.
Superficial and fictitiously bought,
Buyer from the sold,
Silver to the raindrop,
Water to your gold.
Touched the world at a lark,
Till light fled,
Leaving the dark.
I bid farewell to new,
And hello to you.