UNA ROSA Y
MILTON
De las generaciones de las rosas
Que en el fondo del tiempo se han perdido
Quiero que una se salve del olvido,
Una sin marca o signo entre las cosas
Que fueron. El destino me depara
Este don de nombrar por vez primera
Esa flor silenciosa, la postrera
Rosa que Milton acercó a su cara,
Sin verla. Oh tú bermeja o amarilla
O blanca rosa de un jardín borrado,
Deja mágicamente tu pasado
Inmemorial y en este verso brilla,
Oro, sangre o marfil o tenebrosa
Como en sus manos, invisible rosa.
Among the generations of the rose
That have been lost in time's old
manuscripts,
I want to salvage one of them from its
Oblivion, one unmarked, unseen from
those
Earlier things. Now destiny provides
Me with the gift of naming for the first
Time that one soundless flower, the
rose, the last
One Milton chose and lifted to his eyes,
Not seeing it. O you, vermillion, white
Or yellow rose now in a garden blurred,
You leave your past and magically depose
All memory, yet in lines you persist
bright
With gold or blood or ivory, as
conferred
To darkness in his hands, invisible
rose.
Translated by
Willis Barnstone
Six Masters of the Spanish Sonnet : Essays and
Translations
Southern Illinois University Press, 1993
