Monday, 11 November 2013

"The Song of Songs of Solomon" (Chapter I in Spanish)




1 The Song of Songs of Solomon.

2 Bride: Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth!
More delightful is your love than wine!

3 Your name spoken is a spreading perfume -
that is why the maidens love you.

4 Draw me!-
Daughters of Jerusalem: We will follow you eagerly!
Bride: Bring me, O king, to your chambers.
Daughters of Jerusalem: With you we rejoice and exult,
we extol your love; it is beyond wine:
how rightly you are loved!

(First Poem)
5 Bride: I am as dark-but lovely,
O daughters of Jerusalem -
As the tents of Kedar,
as the curtains of Salma.

6 Do not stare at me because I am swarthy,
because the sun has burned me.
My brothers have been angry with me;
they charged me with the care of the vineyards:
my own vineyard I have not cared for.

7 Bride: Tell me, you whom my heart loves,
where you pasture your flock,
where you give them rest at midday,
Lest I be found wandering
after the flocks of your companions.

8 Bridegroom: If you do not know,
O most beautiful among women,
Follow the tracks of the flock
and pasture the young ones
near the shepherds' camps.

9 Bridegroom: To the steeds of Pharaoh's chariots
would I liken you, my beloved:

10 Your cheeks lovely in pendants,
your neck in jewels.

11 We will make pendants of gold for you,
and silver ornaments.

12 Bride: For the king's banquet
my nard gives forth its fragrance.

13 My lover is for me a sachet of myrrh
to rest in my bosom.

14 My lover is for me a cluster of henna
from the vineyards of Engedi.

15 Bridegroom: Ah, you are beautiful, my beloved,
ah, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves!

16 Bride: Ah, you are beautiful, my lover -
yes, you are lovely.
Our couch, too, is verdant;

17 the beams of our house are cedars,
our rafters, cypresses.

Sunday, 10 November 2013

"Irene no Céu" by Manuel Bandeira (in Portuguese)



Irene preta
Irene boa
Irene sempre de bom humor.

Imagino Irene entrando no céu:
- Licença, meu branco!
E São Pedro bonachão:
- Entra, Irene. Você não precisa pedir licença

"A Prayer" by Lord Alfred Douglas (in English)



Often the western wind has sung to me,
There have been voices in the streams and meres,
And pitiful trees have told me, God, of Thee :
And I heard not. Oh ! open Thou mine ears.

The reeds have whispered low as I passed by,
' Be strong, O friend, be strong, put off vain fears,
Vex not they soul with doubts, God cannot lie ' :
And I heard not. Oh ! open Thou mine ears.

There have been many stars to guide my feet,
Often the delicate moon, hearing my sighs,
Has rent the clouds and shown a silver street;
And I saw not. Oh ! open Thou mine eyes.

Angels have beckoned me unceasingly,
And walked with me ; and from the sombre skies
Dear Christ Himself has stretched out hands to me ;
And I saw not. Oh ! open Thou mine eyes.

Saturday, 9 November 2013

Ismália by Alphonsus de Guimaraens (in Portuguese)



            Quando Ismália enlouqueceu,
            Pôs-se na torre a sonhar...
            Viu uma lua no céu,
            Viu outra lua no mar.

            No sonho em que se perdeu,
            Banhou-se toda em luar...
            Queria subir ao céu,
            Queria descer ao mar...

            E, no desvario seu,
            Na torre pôs-se a cantar...
            Estava perto do céu,
            Estava longe do mar...

            E como um anjo pendeu
            As asas para voar...
            Queria a lua do céu,
            Queria a lua do mar...

            As asas que Deus lhe deu
            Ruflaram de par em par...
            Sua alma subiu ao céu,
            Seu corpo desceu ao mar...


Friday, 8 November 2013

"Villancico" by St. Therese of Avila (in Spanish)



Vivo sin vivir en mí
y tan alta vida espero
que muero porque no muero.

Vivo ya fuera de mí,
después que muero de amor,
porque vivo en el Señor,
que me quiso para sí;
cuando el corazón le di
puso en mí este letrero:
«Que muero porque no muero».

Esta divina unión,
y el amor con que yo vivo,
hace a mi Dios mi cautivo
y libre mi corazón;
y causa en mí tal pasión
ver a mi Dios prisionero,
que muero porque no muero.

¡Ay, qué larga es esta vida!
¡Qué duros estos destierros,
esta cárcel y estos hierros
en que está el alma metida!
Sólo esperar la salida
me causa un dolor tan fiero,
que muero porque no muero.

Acaba ya de dejarme,
vida, no me seas molesta;
porque muriendo, ¿qué resta,
sino vivir y gozarme?
No dejes de consolarme,
muerte, que ansí te requiero:
que muero porque no muero.

Thursday, 7 November 2013

First Sonnet by William Shakespeare (in English)



From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:
   Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
   To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

"Flores" by Stecchetti (in Portuguese)



Translated by Sergio Milliet.


Quando as folhas caírem, e tu fores
Procurar minha cruz no campo santo,
Hás de encontrá-la, meu amor, num canto,
Circundada de flores.

Colhe então para os teus loiros cabelos
Cada flor que do meu peito florisse!

Sao versos que pensei, sem escrevê-los,
São palavras de amor que não te disse...