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	<title>Paul Boccaccio &#187; spanish</title>
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	<link>http://www.paulboccaccio.com/blog</link>
	<description>I love writing, and books, and writing books.</description>
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		<title>Si Tu Me Olvidas</title>
		<link>http://www.paulboccaccio.com/blog/2010/03/17/si-tu-me-olvidas/</link>
		<comments>http://www.paulboccaccio.com/blog/2010/03/17/si-tu-me-olvidas/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Mar 2010 15:46:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Paul</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Books]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[necessary for life and happiness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[spanish]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.paulboccaccio.com/blog/?p=495</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Let&#8217;s not postpone enjoying poetry until we have time for poetry. Make time instead. This one is by Pablo Neruda. Si Tu Me Olvidas Quiero que sepas una cosa.   Tú sabes cómo es esto: si miro la luna de cristal, la rama roja del lento otoño en mi ventana, si toco junto al fuego la [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Let&#8217;s not postpone enjoying poetry until we have time for poetry. Make time instead.</p>
<p>This one is by Pablo Neruda.</p>
<table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="10">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td valign="top"><em>Si Tu Me Olvidas</em></p>
<p>Quiero que sepas<br />
una cosa.  <br />
Tú sabes cómo es esto:<br />
si miro<br />
la luna de cristal, la rama roja<br />
del lento otoño en mi ventana,<br />
si toco<br />
junto al fuego<br />
la impalpable ceniza<br />
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,<br />
todo me lleva a ti,<br />
como si todo lo que existe:<br />
aromas, luz, metales,<br />
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan<br />
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.</p>
<p>Ahora bien,<br />
si poco a poco dejas de quererme<br />
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.</p>
<p>Si de pronto<br />
me olvidas<br />
no me busques,<br />
que ya te habré olvidado.</p>
<p>Si consideras largo y loco<br />
el viento de banderas<br />
que pasa por mi vida<br />
y te decides<br />
a dejarme a la orilla<br />
del corazón en que tengo raíces,<br />
piensa<br />
que en esa día,<br />
a esa hora<br />
levantaré los brazos<br />
y saldrán mis raíces<br />
a buscar otra tierra.</p>
<p>Pero<br />
si cada día,<br />
cada hora,<br />
sientes que a mí estás destinada<br />
con dulzura implacable,<br />
si cada día sube<br />
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,<br />
ay amor mío, ay mía,<br />
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,<br />
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,<br />
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,<br />
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos<br />
sin salir de los míos.</td>
<td valign="top"><em>If You Forget Me</em></p>
<p>I want you to know<br />
one thing.<br />
You know how this is:<br />
if I look<br />
at the crystal moon, at the red branch<br />
of the slow autumn at my window,<br />
if I touch<br />
near the fire<br />
the impalpable ash<br />
or the wrinkled body of the log,<br />
everything carries me to you,<br />
as if everything that exists:<br />
aromas, light, metals,<br />
were little boats that sail<br />
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.</p>
<p>Well, now,<br />
if little by little you stop loving me<br />
I shall stop loving you little by little.</p>
<p>If suddenly<br />
you forget me<br />
do not look for me,<br />
for I shall already have forgotten you.</p>
<p>If you think it long and mad,<br />
the wind of banners<br />
that passes through my life,<br />
and you decide<br />
to leave me at the shore<br />
of the heart where I have roots,<br />
remember<br />
that on that day,<br />
at that hour,<br />
I shall lift my arms<br />
and my roots will set off<br />
to seek another land.</p>
<p>But<br />
if each day,<br />
each hour,<br />
you feel that you are destined for me<br />
with implacable sweetness,<br />
if each day a flower<br />
climbs up to your lips to seek me,<br />
ah my love, ah my own,<br />
in me all that fire is repeated,<br />
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,<br />
my love feeds on your love, beloved,<br />
and as long as you live it will be in your arms<br />
without leaving mine.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Nocturno a Rosario</title>
		<link>http://www.paulboccaccio.com/blog/2010/01/27/nocturno-a-rosario/</link>
		<comments>http://www.paulboccaccio.com/blog/2010/01/27/nocturno-a-rosario/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 27 Jan 2010 14:48:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Paul</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Books]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mexico]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[spanish]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[wah wah wah]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.paulboccaccio.com/blog/?p=468</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I listened to Librivox&#8217;s first collection of Spanish poetry last night, even though I have very little Spanish. Mostly to hear the way the language fits together, and to feel the cadence of their speech. I especially liked one poem on first listen, Manuel Acu&#241;a&#8217;s Nocturno a Rosario (mp3). The translation doesn&#8217;t impress me&#8212;though, to [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I listened to Librivox&#8217;s first collection of <a href="http://librivox.org/spanish-poetry-collection-001/">Spanish poetry</a> last night, even though I have very little Spanish. Mostly to hear the way the language fits together, and to feel the cadence of their speech. I especially liked one poem on first listen, Manuel Acu&ntilde;a&#8217;s <em>Nocturno a Rosario</em> (<a href="http://www.archive.org/download/spanishpoetry_001_librivox/nocturno_acuna_krs_64kb.mp3">mp3</a>). The translation doesn&#8217;t impress me&mdash;though, to be clear, I don&#8217;t mean the quality of the translation, which I can&#8217;t judge, and I certainly don&#8217;t mean to impugn the skills of long dead Ernest S. Green, nor his translating partner Harriet Von Lowenfels; I mean his actual subject matter&mdash;but I like the original&#8217;s rhythm enough to pardon the rest. He lived from 1849&ndash;1873, so I cut him some slack: it was a sentimental century. </p>
<p>(Too, he killed himself after writing it, so there&#8217;s that added weight.)</p>
<p>For your convenience, since I can&#8217;t find the English and Spanish side-by-side, or formatted in a readable way, I&#8217;ve included the poem below:</p>
<table border="0" cellpadding="10" cellspacing="0">
<tr>
<td>Nocturn to Rosario</p>
<p>Well, then, I am compelled<br />
to say that I adore thee;<br />
to tell thee that I love thee<br />
with all my heart;<br />
that there is much I suffer,<br />
and that much I weep;<br />
that more I can not bear,<br />
and at the cry in which I implore<br />
I entreat thee and speak in the name<br />
of my lost illusions.<br />
I want you to know<br />
that already many days<br />
have I been ill and pallid<br />
from so much lost sleep;<br />
that all my hopes<br />
have already died;<br />
that my nights are dark—<br />
so black and gloomy<br />
that I know not even where<br />
the future is fled.<br />
At night, when I rest<br />
my temples on my pillow,<br />
and towards another world<br />
I wish to turn my mind,<br />
I walk on, and on,<br />
and at my journey&#8217;s end<br />
the forms of my parents<br />
are lost in vacancy,<br />
and thou again returnest<br />
to appear in my heart.<br />
I understand thy kisses<br />
are never to be mine;<br />
I understand that in thine eyes<br />
I ne&#8217;er shall see myself;<br />
and I love thee, and in my mad<br />
and ardent deliriums<br />
I bless thy frowns;<br />
I admire thy indifference.<br />
And instead of loving thee less<br />
I worship thee much more.<br />
At times I think of giving thee<br />
my eternal farewell;<br />
to blot thee from my memory<br />
and drown thee in my passion;<br />
but if all be in vain,<br />
and my soul forget thee not,<br />
what wilt thou that I do,<br />
part of my life,<br />
what wilt thou that I do<br />
with this—my heart?<br />
And then, when thy sanctuary<br />
was completed,<br />
thy lamp was burning,<br />
thy veil on the altar.<br />
The sun of the morning<br />
behind the belfry,<br />
the torches emitting sparks,<br />
the incensory smoking,<br />
and there, open in the distance,<br />
the door of my home.<br />
How beautiful it would have been<br />
to live beneath that roof,<br />
we two united always,<br />
and always loving each other;<br />
thou always enamored;<br />
I always contented;<br />
we two a soul in one;<br />
we two a single heart;<br />
and between thee and me,<br />
my mother like a god.<br />
Imagine thou how beautiful<br />
the hours of such a life!<br />
How sweet and beautiful the journey<br />
through such a land!<br />
And I dreamed of that,<br />
my holy betrothed,<br />
and when upon it delirating<br />
with my trembling heart,<br />
I thought to be good<br />
for thee, and for thee only.<br />
Well knows God that this was<br />
my most beautiful dream;<br />
my anxiety and my hope;<br />
my happiness and my joy.<br />
Well knows God that in nothing<br />
did I abridge my diligence,<br />
but to love thee much<br />
within the smiling home<br />
that wrapped me in its kisses<br />
when it saw my birth.<br />
Such was my hope—<br />
but now, against its brightness,<br />
is opposed the deep abyss<br />
that exists between the two.<br />
Farewell for the last time,<br />
love of my affections;<br />
the light of my darkness,<br />
the essence of my flowers<br />
my poet&#8217;s lyre,<br />
my youth, farewell!
</td>
<td>
Nocturno a Rosario</p>
<p>Pues bien, yo necesito<br />
decirte que te adoro,<br />
decirte que te quiero<br />
con todo el corazón;<br />
que es mucho lo que sufro,<br />
que es mucho lo que lloro,<br />
que ya no puedo tanto,<br />
y al grito que te imploro<br />
te imploro y te hablo en nombre<br />
de mi última ilusión.<br />
De noche cuando pongo<br />
mis sienes en la almohada,<br />
y hacia otro mundo quiero<br />
mi espíritu volver,<br />
camino mucho, mucho<br />
y al fin de la jornada<br />
las formas de mi madre<br />
se pierden en la nada,<br />
y tú de nuevo vuelves<br />
en mi alma a aparecer.<br />
Comprendo que tus besos<br />
jamás han de ser míos;<br />
comprendo que en tus ojos<br />
no me he de ver jamás;<br />
y te amo, y en mis locos<br />
y ardientes desvaríos<br />
bendigo tus desdenes,<br />
adoro tus desvíos,<br />
y en vez de amarte menos<br />
te quiero mucho más.<br />
A veces pienso en darte<br />
mi eterna despedida,<br />
borrarte en mis recuerdos<br />
y huir de esta pasión;<br />
mas si es en vano todo<br />
y mi alma no te olvida,<br />
¡qué quieres tú que yo haga<br />
pedazo de mi vida;<br />
qué quieres tú que yo haga<br />
con este corazón!<br />
Y luego que ya estaba?<br />
concluido el santuario,<br />
la lámpara encendida<br />
tu velo en el altar,<br />
el sol de la mañana<br />
detrás del campanario,<br />
chispeando las antorchas,<br />
humeando el incensario,<br />
y abierta allá a lo lejos<br />
la puerta del hogar&#8230;<br />
Yo quiero que tú sepas<br />
que ya hace muchos días<br />
estoy enfermo y pálido<br />
de tanto no dormir;<br />
que ya se han muerto todas<br />
las esperanzas mías;<br />
que están mis noches negras,<br />
tan negras y sombrías<br />
que ya no sé ni dónde<br />
se alzaba el porvenir.<br />
¡Que hermoso hubiera sido<br />
vivir bajo aquel techo.<br />
los dos unidos siempre<br />
y amándonos los dos;<br />
tú siempre enamorada,<br />
yo siempre satisfecho,<br />
los dos, un alma sola,<br />
los dos, un solo pecho,<br />
y en medio de nosotros<br />
mi madre como un Díos!<br />
¡Figúrate qué hermosas<br />
las horas de la vida!<br />
¡Qué dulce y bello el viaje<br />
por una tierra así!<br />
Y yo soñaba en eso,<br />
mi santa prometida,<br />
y al delirar en eso<br />
con alma estremecida,<br />
pensaba yo en ser bueno<br />
por ti, no más por ti.<br />
Bien sabe Díos que ése era<br />
mi más hermoso sueño,<br />
mi afán y mi esperanza,<br />
mi dicha y mi placer;<br />
¡bien sabe Díos que en nada<br />
cifraba yo mi empeño,<br />
sino en amarte mucho<br />
en el hogar risueño<br />
que me envolvió en sus besos<br />
cuando me vio nacer!<br />
Esa era mi esperanza&#8230;<br />
mas ya que a sus fulgores<br />
se opone el hondo abismo<br />
que existe entre los dos,<br />
¡adiós por la última vez,<br />
amor de mis amores;<br />
la luz de mis tinieblas,<br />
la esencia de mis flores,<br />
mi mira de poeta,<br />
mi juventud, adiós!</td>
</tr>
</table>
]]></content:encoded>
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