Pent in Walls of Glass

martes, 26 de abril de 2016

Pent in Walls of Glass

                            V


Those hours that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
Will play the tyrants to the very same,
And that unfair which fairly doth excel.

For never-resting Time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there,
Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'ersnowed and bareness everywhere.

Then were not summer's distillation left
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.

But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

—oOo— 

Esas Horas que orlaban en gentil cenefa

la amable vista en que todo ojo se demora

de ésa misma han de hacer como tiranas befa

y deslustrar lo que tan claro lustre dora.

Que el Tiempo sin reposo al verano lo lleva

a triste perdición hacia el invierno enfermo,

yerta la savia en hielo, ida la hoja nueva,

sobrenevada la hermosura y todo yermo.

Si esencia de verano pués no se destila,

Líquida en cárceles de vidrio prisionera,

Fruto de gracia con la gracia se aniquila:

ni ella ni remembranza de lo que ella era.

Pero flore destilada, el invierno la priva

de vista sólo: su sustancia sigue viva.

(Soneto V de Shakespeare's Sonnets; trad. de Agustín García Calvo).

 

 El poema de la semana: To Hear with Eyes

—oOo—