Rima XXVI

Voy contra mi interés al confesarlo;     no obstante, amada mía, pienso cual tú que una oda solo es buena de un billete del banco al dorso escrita. No faltará algún necio que al oírlo se haga cruces y diga: Mujer al fin del siglo diez y nueve material y prosaica... ¡Boberías! ¡Voces que hacen correr cuatro poetas que en invierno se embozan con la lira! ¡Ladridos de los perros a la luna! Tú sabes y yo se que en esta vida, con genio es muy contado el que la escribe, y con oro cualquiera hace poesía.			It is not in my interest to confess it;     however, my beloved, I agree with you that an ode is only good if it's endorsed on the back of a bank note. There is no shortage of fools who on hearing this will make a cross and say: "woman is banal material for the end of the nineteenth century..." Idiots! Voices that make four poets flee who in winter wrap themselves in lyricism! Baying of hounds at the moon! You and I know that in this life, it is very rare to write with genius, and for anyone to make poetry with gold.
Translations by others:
In spite of selfish interest Let it be frankly here confessed That I with thee Must quite agree That odes are only good, when seen Endorsed on bank-notes crisp and green. - Some dolts will not be wantng, who Will cross themselves with much ado And vent their rank acerbity Upon our nineteenth century. Declaring modern women all Prosaic and material. - Such sentiments but serve to make Four frozen poets run and quake, When they essay in winter's ire To wrap themselves within their lyre. These are the dogs who bay their tune To spite the poor, defenceless moon. For you know well And I can tell, That there are very few of us Who boast of real genius While any booby may with gold A world of poesy unfold. Translated by Jules Renard Copyright ©1908 by Richard G. Badger			It is against my interest to confess it,     But I, belov'd, with thee Agree that an ode hath little worth, unless it Is good for a bank-cheque - and endorsed to me. There will not lack some nincompoop who, hearing,     Will cross himmself and say: "Woman, the nineteenth century's endng nearing, Material and prosaic ..." What foolish bray! Voices that make four poets run, who tight Wrap themselves in lyrics on a winter's day!     Baying of hounds in the moon's light! In this life thou well knowest, as know I, With genius 'tis most counted who doth write, With gold, 'tis whoso maketh, poetry. Translated by Young Allison Copyright ©1924 by Young Allison

The last two lines are a bit confusing; it may be possible to read them more like "well-paid with genius are those who write, and with gold those who manufacture, poetry". The basic question is whether "contado" means "scarce, rare, uncommon" as it usually does, or whether we're looking at its meaning related to "contador" which means "paymaster, cashier, accountant". The root meaning from "contar" is "to count".