Edgar Allan Poe -Helen, thy beauty is to me...- |
Friday, November 05, 2004 |
Helen, thy beauty is to me... Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)
Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, wayworn wanderer bore To his own native shore.
On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land!
Es tu hermosura, Elena...
Es tu hermosura, Elena, Como esas naves niceas de antes Que por la mar calma y serena Llevaban a su nativa arena Al exhausto navegante.
Perdido entre olas y zozobras vanas, Tu pelo de jacinto, tu clásica belleza, Tu aire de náyade galana Me traen de vuelta a la gloriosa Grecia Y a la grandeza romana.
¡Mira! ¡en tu nicho de cristal pulido La lámpara de ágata levantas Y tu figura de estatua se agiganta! ¡Oh Psique, tú que has venido De tierras sacrosantas!Labels: Edgar Allan Poe |
posted by Alfil @ 4:46 PM |
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