17th Century Poetry
I'm feeling "poetic" today. And I decided to share with you (especially you, English-speaking friends of mine) a poetic gem by Francisco de Quevedo, Spanish writer from the 17th century. That was, in the opinion of many, the high point of Spanish literature (the Golden Century of Spanish letters), and Quevedo was one of the most important writers in Spain at that time.
The sonnet by Quevedo that I chose is one of my favourites. I think that it speaks by itself. This is one of the best translations into English that I have found. Enjoy!
Love constant beyond Death
Perhaps whatever final shadow that
the shining day may bring could close my eyes,
and this my soul may well be set aflight
by time responding to its longing sighs;
but it will not, there on the farther shore
its memory leave behind, where once it burned:
my flame the icy current yet can swim,
and so severe a law can surely spurn.
Soul by no less than a god confined,
veins that such a blazing fire have fueled,
marrow to its glorious flames consigned:
the body will abandon, not its woes;
will soon be ash, but ash that is aware;
dust will be, but dust whose love still grows.
(© for the translation Alix Ingber, 1995)
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Bueno... Hoy me siento poético, así que aquí va uno de mis sonetos favoritos, cortesía de Francisco de Quevedo. Siempre que lo leo me da escalofríos. Me llega al alma, realmente.
Amor constante más allá de la muerte
Cerrar podrá mis ojos la postrera
sombra que me llevare el blanco día,
y podrá desatar esta alma mía
hora a su afán ansioso lisonjera;
mas no, de esotra parte, en la ribera,
dejará la memoria, en donde ardía:
nadar sabe mi llama la agua fría,
y perder el respeto a ley severa.
Alma a quien todo un dios prisión ha sido,
venas que humor a tanto fuego han dado,
medulas que han gloriosamente ardido:
su cuerpo dejará, no su cuidado;
serán ceniza, mas tendrá sentido;
polvo serán, mas polvo enamorado.