Este lado de la verdad
(para Llewelyn)
Quizá no veas, hijo mío,
a este lado de la verdad
–reina de tus ojos azules–
en el ciego país de la juventud,
que todo está deshecho
bajo los cielos despreocupados,
de inocencia y culpa
antes de que te muevas para hacer
un gesto del corazón o la cabeza,
está junto y desparramado
en la oscuridad sinuosa
como el polvo de los muertos.
Bien y mal, dos modos
de pararte frente a tu muerte
en este mar corrosivo,
rey de tu corazón en los días ciegos,
se apagan como la respiración,
entran llorando a través de ti y de mí
y de las almas de todos los hombres
en la inocente
oscuridad, y la oscuridad culpable, y la muerte
buena, y la muerte mala, y después
en el último elemento
huyen como la sangre de las estrellas,
como las lágrimas del sol,
como la simiente de la luna, fuego
y basura, la perorata superficial
del cielo, rey de tus seis años.
Y el malvado deseo,
bajo el origen de las plantas
y animales y pájaros,
agua y luz, la tierra y el cielo,
está echado antes de que te muevas,
y todos tus actos y palabras,
cada verdad, cada mentira,
mueren en un amor sin juicio.
Dylan Thomas, Swansea, 1914 – New York, 1953
Versión © Silvia Camerotto
En The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas, 1934-1952, New Directions Publishing, New York, 1971Versión © Silvia Camerotto
Imagen: Aeronwy, Llewelyn y Colm, circa 1953, en Aromito de José María Pallaoro
This Side of the Truth
(for Llewelyn)
This side of the truth,
You may not see, my son,
King of your blue eyes
In the blinding country of youth,
That all is undone,
Under the unminding skies,
Of innocence and guilt
Before you move to make
One gesture of the heart or head,
Is gathered and spilt
Into the winding dark
Like the dust of the dead.
Good and bad, two ways
Of moving about your death
By the grinding sea,
King of your heart in the blind days,
Blow away like breath,
Go crying through you and me
And the souls of all men
Into the innocent
Dark, and the guilty dark, and good
Death, and bad death, and then
In the last element
Fly like the stars' blood,
Like the sun's tears,
Like the moon's seed, rubbish
And fire, the flying rant
Of the sky, king of your six years.
And the wicked wish,
Down the beginning of plants
And animals and birds,
Water and Light, the earth and sky,
Is cast before you move,
And all your deeds and words,
Each truth, each lie,
Die in unjudging love.
You may not see, my son,
King of your blue eyes
In the blinding country of youth,
That all is undone,
Under the unminding skies,
Of innocence and guilt
Before you move to make
One gesture of the heart or head,
Is gathered and spilt
Into the winding dark
Like the dust of the dead.
Good and bad, two ways
Of moving about your death
By the grinding sea,
King of your heart in the blind days,
Blow away like breath,
Go crying through you and me
And the souls of all men
Into the innocent
Dark, and the guilty dark, and good
Death, and bad death, and then
In the last element
Fly like the stars' blood,
Like the sun's tears,
Like the moon's seed, rubbish
And fire, the flying rant
Of the sky, king of your six years.
And the wicked wish,
Down the beginning of plants
And animals and birds,
Water and Light, the earth and sky,
Is cast before you move,
And all your deeds and words,
Each truth, each lie,
Die in unjudging love.
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