Poetry

Composed

Una Rosa en el Desierto por Christopher Hurtado

Andando solo en el desierto
Una rosa me encontré
No esperaba tenerla nunca
Pero siempre la anhelé
Parecía imposible que existiera
Esa rosa que yo soñé
Esa rosa en el desierto
Que en ti ahora y siempre yo tendré

Translated

Come, My Sweet Love by Anonymous translated by Christopher Hurtado
 
Come now, my sweet love
you whom as my own heart I esteem
Enter into my bedchamber
loaded with ornaments
 
There there are pillows spread out
and your abode is adorned with veils
And flowers are scattered in your abode
and fragrant herbs are intermingled
 
Set before you is a table
laden with all kinds of victuals
There clear wine aplenty
and whatsoever, dear, attracts you
 
There resound sweet harmonies
flutes are blown higher
There a boy and learned girl
play for you beautiful songs
 
He plucks the cithara with his plectrum
she a tune with the lyre plays
And servants bring you pateras
pigmented goblets brimming
 
Such a feast does not delight me
as much as the sweet conversation afterwards
Nor so much richness of things
as beloved familiarities
 
now at this time come, my chosen sister
and above all to me beloved
Light of my bright pupil
and the greater part of my soul
 
I have been alone in the forest
and have loved the secret places:
I have frequently fled the bustle
and shunned the crowds of people
 
Now snow and ice melt
the leaf and the herb grow green
Philomela now sings loudly
Love burns in the chamber of the heart
 
Dearest, do not delay;
let us now be eager to love,
Without you I cannot live;
now it is fitting to consummate our love
 
What does it profit us to defer, my chosen one,
what things are yet to be done hereafter
Do promptly what you are going to do
in me there is no delay
 

On a Dark Night by St. John of the Cross translated by Christopher Hurtado

On a dark night,
Craving,
Burning with love,
Oh what fortune!,
I went out unnoticed
My house already still

Safe under darkness,
By the secret ladder,
Disguised,
Oh what fortune!,
Under darkness and under cover
My house already still

On the blessed night
In secret, seen by none
Neither saying anything
Without any light or guide
But that burning in my heart

He guided me
More certain than the light of noon day
Where He waited on me
He whom I well knew
In a place where no person appeared

O night that guided me!
O night dearer than dawn!
O night that brought together
The lover and her Beloved
The lover in her Beloved transformed

In my excited breast
The whole of which I kept for Him alone
There He slept
And I showed Him my affection
And the cedar fan fanned us

The breeze from the parapet
When I parted His hair
With its gentle hand
Wounded my neck
And suspended all my senses

I stayed and forgot myself
I reclined my countenance on my Beloved
Then everything stopped and I surrendered
Leaving my cares among the lilies, forgotten

2 responses to Poetry

  1. Nicely done! The old romantic in me truly appreciates this. Thank you.

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