Ezra Pound -Poem by the bridge at Ten-Shin- |
Thursday, November 04, 2004 |
Poem by the bridge at Ten-Shin Ezra Pound (EEUU, 1885-1972)
March has come to the bridge head, Peach boughs and apricot boughs hang over a thousand gates, At morning there are flowers to cut the heart, And evening drives them on the eastward-flowing waters. Petals are on the gone waters and on the going, And on the back-swirling eddies, But to-day's men are not the men of the old days, Though they hang in the same way over the bridge-rail. The sea's colour moves at the dawn And the princes still stand in rows, about the throne, And the moon falls over the portals of Sei-jo-yo, And clings to the walls and the gate-top. With head gear glittering against the cloud and sun, The lords go forth from the court, and into far borders. They ride upon dragon-like horses, Upon horses with headtrappings of yellow metal, And the streets make way for their passage. Haughty their passing, Haughty their steps as they go in to great banquets, To high halls and curious food, To the perfumed air and girls dancing, To clear flutes and clear singing: To the dance of the seventy couples; To the mad chase through the gardens. Night and day are given over to pleasure And they think it will last a thousand autumns. Unwearying autumns. For them the yellow dogs howl portents in vain, And what are they compared to the Lady Ryokushu, That was cause of hate! Who among them is a man like Han-rei Who departed alone with his mistress, With her hair unbound, and he his own skiffsman!
by Rihaku
Poem by the bridge at Ten-Shin
Marzo llegó a la cabeza del puente, ramas de durazno y de albaricoque penden sobre mil puertas, flores que por la mañana parten el corazón lleva el atardecer a las aguas fluyendo al este. Pétalos en las aguas pasadas y pasando, y en los distantes vortiginosos remolinos, pero ahora los hombres no son como antes, aunque también se cuelguen de la baranda del puente. El color del mar se mueve con el alba y los príncipes aún parados en filas, alrededor del trono, y la luna cae sobre los portales de Sei-go-yo, y se pega a las murallas y al ápice de la puerta. Con cascos refulgiendo frente al sol y la nube, los señores se alejan de la corte e internan en remotas fronteras. Montados en caballos que parecen dragones, enjaezados con metal amarillo, y en las calles les abren paso. Altivo desfile, pasos altivos al dirigirse a grandes convites, a soberbios salones y curiosa comida, al aire perfumado y jóvenes danzarinas, a claras flautas y claros cantos; al baile de las setenta parejas; a la loca persecución por los jardines. Noche y día entregados al placer, pensando que durará mil otoños, infatigables otoños. Para ellos los perros amarillos aúllan portentos en vano, y que son comparados a la señora Riokushu, causante de odio! Quién entre ellos es un hombre como Han-rei que partió solo con su querida, con el cabello suelto y botero de sí mismo!
De Rihaku
Versión de Guillermo Rousset Banda Labels: Ezra Pound |
posted by Alfil @ 9:59 AM |
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