聂鲁达英文版《二十首情诗与绝望的歌》

聂鲁达《二十首情诗与绝望的歌》

Here I Love You

Here I love you

In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself

The moon glows like phosphorus on the vagrant waters Days, all one kind, go chasing each other

The snow unfurls in dancing figures

A silver gull slips down from the west

Sometimes a sail ,high,high stars

Oh the black cross of a ship

Alone

Sometimes I get up early an even my soul is wet

Far away the sea sounds an resounds

This is a port

Here I love you .

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain

I love you still among these cold things

Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels

That cross the sea towards no arrival

I see myself forgotten like those old anchorsmes

Thinking, thangling shadows

Thinking,tangling shadows in the deep solitude

You are far away too,oh farther than anyone Thinking,freeing birds,dissolving images

Burying lamps

Belfry of fogs,how far away,up there!

Stifling laments, milling shadowy hopes,

Taciturn miller.

Night falls on you face downward, far from the city.

Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing

I think, I explore great tracts of my life bfore you

My life before anyone, my harsh life

The shout facing the sea, among the rocks.

Running free,mad,in the sea-spray

The sad rage, the shout, the solitude of the sea

Headlong,violent, stretched towads the sky

You,woman, what were you there, what ray,what vane

Of that immense fan?you were as far as you are now

Fire in the forest! Buren in blue crosses

Burn, burn, flamp up, sparkle in trees of light

In my sky at twilight

This poem is a paraphrase of the 30th poem in rabindranath tagore’s the gardener

In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud

And your form and colour are the way I love them

You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips

And in your life my infinite dreams live

The lamp of my soul dyes your feet

My sour wine is sweeter on your lips

Oh reaper of my evening song

How solitary dreams believe you to be mine!

You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon’s

Wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice

Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunder

Stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water

You are taken in the net of my music, my love

And my nets of music are wide as the sky

My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning

In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.

I like for you to be still

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent

And you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you It seems as though your eyes had flown away

And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth

As all things are filled with my soul

You emerge from the things, filled with my soul

You are like my soul. A butterfly of dream

And you are like the word melancholy

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away

It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly

Cooing like a dove

And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you : Let me come to be still in your silence

And let me talk to you with your silence

That is bright sa a lamep, simple as a ring

You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations

Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent

Distant and full of sorrow as though you had died

One wore then, one smile, is enough

And I am happy, happy that it’s not true

Every day you play

Evey day you play with the light of the universe

Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and water

You are more than this white head that I hold tightly

As a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands

You are like nobody since I love you

Let me spread you out among yellow garlands

Who writes your name in letters of smoke among

The stars of the south?

Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed

Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window

The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish

Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them

The rain takes off her clothes

The birds go by, fleeing

The wind. The wind.

I can contend omly against the power of men

The storm whirls dark leaves

And turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky

You are here. Oh, you do not run away

You will answer me to the last cry

Cling to me as though you were frightened

Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran trough your eyes

Now, now too, little one. You bring me honeysuckle

And even your breasts smell of it

While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies

I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me

My savage, solitary soul ,my name that sends them all running

So many times we have seen the morng star burn , kissing our eyes And over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans

My words rained over you ,stroking you

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body I go so far as to think that you own the universe

I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains ,bluebells

Dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want

To do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

I have gone marking

I have gone marking the atlas of your body with crosses of fire

My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide

In you ,behind you, timid, driven by thirst

Stories to tell yu on the shore of evening

Sad and gentle doll, so that you should not be sad

A swan, a tree, some thing far away and happy

The season of grapes, the ripe and fruitful season

I who lived in a harbour from which I loved you

The solitude crossed with deam and with silence

Penned up between the sea and sadness

Soundless, delirious, betuuen tuo motionless gondoliers

Between the lips and the voice something goes dying

Something with the wings of a bird, something of anguish and oblivion The way nets cannot hold water

My toy doll, only a few drops are left trembling

Even so, something sings in these fugitive words

Something sings ,something climbs to my ravenous mouth

Oh to be able to celebrate you with all the words of joy

Sing, burn, flee, like a belfry at the hands of a madman

My sad tenderness, what comes over you all at once?

When I have resched the most awesome and the coldest summit

My heart closes like a nocturnal flower

You breast is enogh

You breast is enogh for my heart

And my wings for your freedom

What was sleeping above your soul will rise

Out of my mouth to heaven