Conversación entre las ruinas
A través del
porche de mi casa elegante tu acechas,
con tus
furias salvajes, perturbando las guirnaldas de frutas
y los laúdes
fabulosos y los pavos reales, desgarrando el tejido
de cualquier
decoro que detenga el torbellino.
Ahora, la
lujosa estructura de las paredes se desmorona; los grajos graznan
en la aterradora
ruina; bajo la luz sombría
de tu ojo tempestuoso,
la magia huye
como una bruja
cobarde, que abandona el castillo cuando la realidad amanece.
Los pilares
fracturados enmarcando proyectos de roca;
mientras te
paras heroico con saco y corbata, yo me siento
con túnica griega
y rodete a lo Psique,
arraigada a
tu mirada oscura, convierten la obra en tragedia.
Con semejante
desgracia cayendo sobre nuestra casa en bancarrota
¿qué rito de
palabras puede arreglar la destrucción?
Sylvia Plath, Boston, Massachusetts, 1932, Londres, 1963
en Sylvia
Plath, Collected Poems, Ted Hughes, Harper, 1981
Versión ©
Silvia Camerotto
Conversation Among The Ruins
Through portico of
my elegant house you stalk
With your wild furies, disturbing garlands of fruit
And the fabulous lutes and peacocks, rending the net
Of all decorum which holds the whirlwind back.
Now, rich order of walls is fallen; rooks croak
Above the appalling ruin; in bleak light
Of your stormy eye, magic takes flight
Like a daunted witch, quitting castle when real days break.
Fractured pillars frame prospects of rock;
While you stand heroic in coat and tie, I sit
Composed in Grecian tunic and psyche-knot,
Rooted to your black look, the play turned tragic:
Which such blight wrought on our bankrupt estate,
What ceremony of words can patch the havoc?
With your wild furies, disturbing garlands of fruit
And the fabulous lutes and peacocks, rending the net
Of all decorum which holds the whirlwind back.
Now, rich order of walls is fallen; rooks croak
Above the appalling ruin; in bleak light
Of your stormy eye, magic takes flight
Like a daunted witch, quitting castle when real days break.
Fractured pillars frame prospects of rock;
While you stand heroic in coat and tie, I sit
Composed in Grecian tunic and psyche-knot,
Rooted to your black look, the play turned tragic:
Which such blight wrought on our bankrupt estate,
What ceremony of words can patch the havoc?
1 comentario:
qué buena versión al español!
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