Poem
Aurelio Arturo
Lullaby
The night is very busy
rocking one by one,
so many leaves.
And the leaves don’t fall asleep,
not all of them.
If aided by the stars,
how it trembles and jingles the infinite,
eternal canopy of heaven.
But who will cradle so many,
so many leaves,
if the day is already ascending
by the river?
(Where do this country
of the leaves
and this rustle of the
deep night sing?)
By the side of the river
come the days
of golden down,
come the nights
of fine lips.
(Where is the beautiful country
of the rivers that opens roads
for the clear wind
and the singing?)
The night is very busy
rocking one by one,
so many leaves.
And the leaves don’t fall asleep
not all of them.
If the stars could help . . .
But there are some more hidden,
but there are some leaves, some
that will never enter the night,
never.
(Where do this country
of leaves
and this rustle of
the deep night sing?)
© Translation: 2004, Raúl Jaime Gaviria
Translated with the collaboration of Edgardo Arturo and Nicolás Suescún
Translated with the collaboration of Edgardo Arturo and Nicolás Suescún
Arrullo
Arrullo
La noche está muy atareada
en mecer una por una,
tantas hojas.
Y las hojas no se duermen
todas.
Si le ayudan las estrellas,
cómo tiembla y tintinea la infinita
comba eterna.
¿Pero quién dormirá a tantas,
tantas,
si ya va subiendo el día
por el río?
(¿Dónde canta este país
de las hojas
y este arrullo de la noche
honda?).
Por el lado del río
vienen los días
de bozo dorado,
vienen las noches
de fino labio.
(¿Dónde el bello país de los ríos
que abre caminos
al viento claro
y al canto?)
La noche está muy atareada
en mecer una por una,
tantas hojas.
Y las hojas no se duermen
todas.
Si le ayudan las estrellas . . .
Pero hay unas más ocultas,
pero hay unas hojas, unas
que entrarán nunca en la noche,
nunca.
(¿Dónde catan este país
de las hojas,
y este arrullo de la noche
honda?)
© 1945, Aurelio Arturo
From: Morada al sur
Publisher: Oveja Negra, Bogotá
From: Morada al sur
Publisher: Oveja Negra, Bogotá
Poems
Poems of Aurelio Arturo
Close
Lullaby
The night is very busy
rocking one by one,
so many leaves.
And the leaves don’t fall asleep,
not all of them.
If aided by the stars,
how it trembles and jingles the infinite,
eternal canopy of heaven.
But who will cradle so many,
so many leaves,
if the day is already ascending
by the river?
(Where do this country
of the leaves
and this rustle of the
deep night sing?)
By the side of the river
come the days
of golden down,
come the nights
of fine lips.
(Where is the beautiful country
of the rivers that opens roads
for the clear wind
and the singing?)
The night is very busy
rocking one by one,
so many leaves.
And the leaves don’t fall asleep
not all of them.
If the stars could help . . .
But there are some more hidden,
but there are some leaves, some
that will never enter the night,
never.
(Where do this country
of leaves
and this rustle of
the deep night sing?)
© 2004, Raúl Jaime Gaviria
Translated with the collaboration of Edgardo Arturo and Nicolás Suescún
From: Morada al sur
Translated with the collaboration of Edgardo Arturo and Nicolás Suescún
From: Morada al sur
Lullaby
The night is very busy
rocking one by one,
so many leaves.
And the leaves don’t fall asleep,
not all of them.
If aided by the stars,
how it trembles and jingles the infinite,
eternal canopy of heaven.
But who will cradle so many,
so many leaves,
if the day is already ascending
by the river?
(Where do this country
of the leaves
and this rustle of the
deep night sing?)
By the side of the river
come the days
of golden down,
come the nights
of fine lips.
(Where is the beautiful country
of the rivers that opens roads
for the clear wind
and the singing?)
The night is very busy
rocking one by one,
so many leaves.
And the leaves don’t fall asleep
not all of them.
If the stars could help . . .
But there are some more hidden,
but there are some leaves, some
that will never enter the night,
never.
(Where do this country
of leaves
and this rustle of
the deep night sing?)
© 2004, Raúl Jaime Gaviria
Translated with the collaboration of Edgardo Arturo and Nicolás Suescún
Translated with the collaboration of Edgardo Arturo and Nicolás Suescún
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