21.05.2024
Federico García Lorca - Elegía del silencio Лирицс транслатион то енглисх
English
Elegy of silence
Silence, where are you takingyour fogged glass
of laughter, of words
and sobbing from the tree?
How do you clean, silence,
the dew of the song
and the sound spots
that the distant seas
leave on the sapwood
serene of your mantle?
Who closes your wounds
when on the fields
some old waterwheel
sticks its slow dart
in your immense glass?
Where do you go if at sunset
you are hurt by the bells
and break your backwater
the flocks of couplets
and the great golden rumor
that falls on the mountains
blue sobbing?
The winter air
it makes your blue pieces,
and cut down your flowers
the quiet mourning
from some cold source.
Where you lay your hands,
the thorn of laughter
or the hot axe
of the passion you find.
If you go to the stars,
the solemn buzz
of the blue birds
breaks the great balance
of your hidden skull.
Fleeing from the sound
you are sound itself,
spectrum of harmony,
smoke of screaming and singing.
You come to tell us
in the dark nights
the word infinite
breathless and without lips.
Star drilling
and mature music,
where do you take, silence,
your extrahuman pain,
pain of being captive
in the melodic spider,
blind now forever
your sacred spring?
Today they drag your waves
clouds of thought
the sound ash
and the pain of yesteryear.
The echoes of the screams
who are gone forever.
The remote rumble
of the sea, mummified.
If Jehovah has fallen asleep
climb to the shining throne,
break him in his head
an extinguished light,
and ends up seriously
with the eternal music,
sound harmony
of light, and in the meantime,
return to your source,
where in the eternal night,
before God and time,
you were quiet.
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