Cendal flotante de leve bruma,
rizada cinta de blanca espuma,
rumor sonoro
de arpa de oro,
beso del aura, onda de luz,
eso eres tú.
Tú, sombra aérea que cuantas veces
voy a tocarte, te desvaneces
como la llama, como el sonido,
como la niebla, como un gemido
del lago azul.
En mar sin playas onda sonante,
en el vacío cometa errante,
largo lamento
del ronco viento,
ansia perpetua de algo mejor,
Eso soy yo.
¡Yo, que a tus ojos, en mi agonía
los ojos vuelvo de noche y día
yo, que incansable como demente
tras una sombra, tras la hija ardiente
de una visión!
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Floating veil of slight mist,
curly ribbon of white foam,
sonorous rumor
of harp of gold,
kiss of the breeze, billow of light,
that's what you are.
You, a tenuous phantom that any time
I go to touch you, vanishes
like a flame, like a sound,
like the fog, like the wail
of a blue lake
Crashing wave in a sea without beaches,
nomadic comet in a vacuum,
long moan
of the hoarse wind,
perpetual yearning for something better,
That's what I am.
I, who in my agony keep returning
to your eyes night and day,
I, who indefatigable like a lunatic
chase a shadow, chase the ardent daughter
of a dream!
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Floating wreath of wintry light,
Curling belt of snowy foam,
Sound sonorous of the bright
Harp of gold within the home,
Kiss of zephyrs, wave of light,
- This art thou!
Thou airy shade, that vanishest whenever
I seek to touch thee in a vain endeavor,
Like flick'ring flames, like sound, like fog opaque,
Like gentle murmurs from the azure lake.
Sounding billow on a shoreless sea,
Errant comet in vacuity,
Long-drawn, labored wail
Of the hoarse-voiced gale,
Keen desire for better things to be,
- This am I!
I, who in my agony alway
Turn mine eyes to thine by night and day;
I, who madly, tirelessly pursue
Mocking shadows, hollow phantoms, who
To my unavailing efforts seem
Like the offspring of a fevered dream.
Translated by Jules Renard
Copyright ©1908 by Richard G. Badger
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Floating wreath of hazy misting,
Rippling froth in white tongue twisting,
Resonance bold
Of a harp of gold,
Kiss of the zephyr, billow of light:
Such are you.
You, airy shadow, who, when I endeavor
Only to touch you, disappear ever
Like unto flame, like unto sound,
Like unto mist, like the murmur profound
Of the lake blue.
Sounding wave in a shoreless sea,
In space a comet wandering free,
Lamenting deep
Of the hoarse wind's sweep,
Endless desire for a greater height:
Such am I.
I, who to your eyes in agony's burning
Mine eyes by day and by night am turning:
I, who untiringly run, and wild,
After a shadow, the ardent child
Of a fantasy!
Translated by Young Allison
Copyright ©1924 by Young Allison
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