Slow Lament

Lamento Lento

En la noche del corazon
la gota de tu nombre lento
en silencio circula y cae
y rompe y desarrolla su agua.

Algo quiere su leve dano
y su estima infinita y corta,
como el paso de un ser perdido
de pronto oido.

De pronto, de pronto escuchado
y repartido en el corazon
con triste insistencia y aumento
como un sueno frio de otono.

La espersa ruenda de la tierra
su llanta humeda de olvido
hace rodar, cortando el tiempo
en mitades inaccesibles.

Sus copas duras cubren tu alma
derramada en la tierra fria
con sus pobres chispas azules
volando en la voz de la lluvia.

Slow Lament  by Pablo Neruda

Into the night of the heart
your name drops slowly
and moves in silence and falls
and breaks and spreads its water.

Something wishes for its slight harm
and  its infinite and short esteem,
like the step of a lost one
suddenly heard.

Suddenly, suddenly listened to
and spread in the heart
with sad insistence and increase
like a cold autumnal dream.

The thick wheel of the earth,
its tire moist with oblivion,
spins, cutting time
into inaccessible halves.

Its hard goblets cover your heart
spilt upon the cold earth
with its poor blue sparks
flying in the voice of the rain.

Photography: Rain   rain  by Lonely Pierot

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2 Comments

  1. I’ve long loved Pablo Neruda…so beautiful, especially the first stanza isn’t it? Love the post.

    Lis

    Like

  2. I love you, but this shit is too deep for this early in the a.m. I’ll be back to read it later. Maybe then, I’ll get that shit. Laugh.

    I loves ya,

    SB

    Like

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