6.
El brillo del día
se convierte
en el brillo de la
noche;
el fuego se
convierte en el espejo.
Mi amiga la tierra
está amargada;
el sol le ha
fallado.
Amargada o
cansada, es difícil de saber.
Entre ella y
el sol,
algo terminó.
Ella desea,
ahora, que la dejen sola;
creo que debemos
dejar de acudir
a ella para
afirmarnos.
Sobre los
campos,
sobre los
techos de las casas del pueblo,
la brillantez
que hizo toda vida posible
se convierte
en frías estrellas.
Estén
quietos y observen:
no dan nada,
pero no piden nada.
Desde el interior de la amarga humillación
de la tierra, de su frialdad y su aridez
se levanta mi amiga la luna:
es bella esta noche, pero ¿cuándo no lo es?
De ‘October’
Louise Glück, Nueva York, 1943
En Averno, Farrar, Straus and Giroux,
New York, 2007
Versión © Silvia Camerotto
6.
The
brightness of the day becomes
the brightness of the night;
the fire becomes the mirror.
the brightness of the night;
the fire becomes the mirror.
My friend
the earth is bitter; I think
sunlight has failed her.
Bitter or weary, it is hard to say.
sunlight has failed her.
Bitter or weary, it is hard to say.
Between
herself and the sun,
something has ended.
She wants, now, to be left alone;
I think we must give up
turning to her for affirmation.
something has ended.
She wants, now, to be left alone;
I think we must give up
turning to her for affirmation.
Above the
fields,
above the roofs of the village houses,
the brilliance that made all life possible
becomes the cold stars.
above the roofs of the village houses,
the brilliance that made all life possible
becomes the cold stars.
Lie still
and watch:
they give nothing but ask nothing.
they give nothing but ask nothing.
From
within the earth’s
bitter disgrace, coldness and barrenness
bitter disgrace, coldness and barrenness
my friend
the moon rises:
she is beautiful tonight, but when is she not beautiful?
she is beautiful tonight, but when is she not beautiful?
