"Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche" This is one of 20 love poems by Pablo Neruda. My translation is not brilliant, but follows the meaning as far as I can understand it.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Escribir, por ejemplo: ‘La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos'.
El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.
En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.
Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.
Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como as pasto el roció.
Qué importa que me amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.
Ese es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.
La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.
De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.
Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Aunque éste sea al ultimo dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines
Write, for example, ‘The night is shattered,
And the blue stars are shivering in the distance’.
The night wind twists in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the endless sky.
She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How not to have loved her great steady eyes?
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her,
And the verse falls on the soul like dew on the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
That night is shattered and she is not with me.
That is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is sad that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her in order to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, of that time, already are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her.
My voice searching for the wind to touch her hearing.
Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her immense eyes.
I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
My soul is not happy that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she causes me to suffer,
And these the last verses that I write for her.
Pablo Neruda
Yep, I think this area is a real addition to the forum - fascinating to get a bit of that foreign weather blowing in to our foggy climes.
I think the translation works really well, Dee. However, although overall it works as a poem in its own right (not just as a crib for a foreign original), there are a few lines - I'm thinking of My soul is not happy that it has lost her, in particular - that, were this an original English poem, would feel a bit limp. They don't detract from the pleasure of the whole, though.
Please, keep them coming - I really like them. In fact I'm vaguely inspired to dig out my old volumes of Goethe and Heine, to see what I can come up with, but the results would hardly be happy. Better not!
Cheers
David
I think the translation works really well, Dee. However, although overall it works as a poem in its own right (not just as a crib for a foreign original), there are a few lines - I'm thinking of My soul is not happy that it has lost her, in particular - that, were this an original English poem, would feel a bit limp. They don't detract from the pleasure of the whole, though.
Please, keep them coming - I really like them. In fact I'm vaguely inspired to dig out my old volumes of Goethe and Heine, to see what I can come up with, but the results would hardly be happy. Better not!
Cheers
David
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twoleftfeet
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David,
You make an interesting point with
My soul is not happy that it has lost her
- I am no expert (the only Spanish I know was learned long ago in school)
but the translation of se contenta (contentarse) presents a problem
http://www.wordreference.com/es/en/tran ... ontentarse
- I think this is a good effort in the circumstances.
Geoff
You make an interesting point with
My soul is not happy that it has lost her
- I am no expert (the only Spanish I know was learned long ago in school)
but the translation of se contenta (contentarse) presents a problem
http://www.wordreference.com/es/en/tran ... ontentarse
- I think this is a good effort in the circumstances.
Geoff
I take the point about content/happy.twoleftfeet wrote:David,
You make an interesting point with
My soul is not happy that it has lost her
- I am no expert (the only Spanish I know was learned long ago in school)
but the translation of se contenta (contentarse) presents a problem
http://www.wordreference.com/es/en/tran ... ontentarse
- I think this is a good effort in the circumstances.
Geoff
The verb contentarse is reflexive and would seem to work better trying to convey a feeling - I am happy, I am content.
Alegrarse also reflexive is more about something to make one happy, pleased about something.
Satisfacer indicates pleased with an effort or result.
Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
My soul is not happy having lost her - my soul is sad to have lost her - I wasn't sure how to translate this to show exactly how strong the feeling is.
In fact, triste would be more appropriate - meaning sad. Mi alma está triste con haberla perdido.
Interesting - thanks for imput.
Dee
Thank you Dee for translating Pablo Neruda's works. I enjoy reading his poetry very much, but of course what I have read are all translations.
I think your translation flows well and some expressions do bring a new and fresh feel which I like.
Looking forward to more.
I think your translation flows well and some expressions do bring a new and fresh feel which I like.
Looking forward to more.
