86
O Cruz del Sur, o trébol de fósforo fragante,
con cuatro besos hoy penetró tu hermosura
y atravesó la sombra y mi sombrero:
la luna iba redonda por el frío.
Entonces con mi amor, con mi amada, oh diamantes
de escarcha azul, serenidad del cielo,
espejo, apareciste y se llenó la noche
con tus cuatro bodegas temblorosas de vino.
O palpitante plata de pez pulido y puro,
cruz verde, perejil de la sombra radiante,
luciérnaga a la unidad del cielo condenada,
descansa en mí, cerremos tus ojos y los míos.
Por un minuto duerme con la noche del hombre.
Enciende en mí tus cuatro números constelados.
86
Oh Southern Cross, oh clover of fragrant phosphorous,
beauty entered your body today with four kisses,
and passed right through the shadow and my hat. . .
The moon, the round moon, turned through the cold.
And then, with my love, with my beloved, oh diamonds
you appeared, blue hoarfrost, the sky's serenity,
its mirror, and the night filled up
with your four tremulous cellars of wine.
Oh palpitant silver of pure and polished fish,
green cross, the radiant shadow's parsley,
firefly condemned to the unity of the sky,
rest in me. Let us close your eyes, and mine.
Sleep a moment in mankind's night.
Light in me your four star-clustered numbers.
Translation: Terence Clarke
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Beautiful translation. I'll
Beautiful translation. I'll read it to the night sky over the Gulf of Mexico. Just when you despair that words have become frayed scarecrows for politicians and talk show hosts, you hear the poetry of Pablo Neruda.