Rubén Darío — Nicaragua, 1867 (Translated by José Wan Díaz)
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Lo Fatal Dichoso el árbol que es apenas sensitivo, y más la piedra dura porque esa ya no siente, pues no hay dolor más grande que el dolor de ser vivo, ni mayor pesadumbre que la vida consciente. Ser, y no saber nada, y ser sin rumbo cierto, y el temor de haber sido y un futuro terror... Y el espanto seguro de estar mañana muerto, y sufrir por la vida y por la sombra y por lo que no conocemos y apenas sospechamos, y la carne que tienta con sus frescos racimos, y la tumba que aguarda con sus fúnebres ramos, y no saber adónde vamos, ni de dónde venimos!... |
The Deadly Fortunate is the tree that is barely sensitive, and even more the hard stone, for it does not feel, as there isn't greater pain than that of being alive, nor greater sadness than conscious life. To be, and know nothing, and to be without purpose, and the dread of having been and of a future terror ... And the certain horror of being dead tomorrow, and the fear for one's life and for the darkness, and for that which we ignore and barely suspect, and the flesh that tempts with its fresh bounty, and the tomb that awaits with its funereal bouquets, and the not knowing where we're going, nor where we came from!... |