Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

José Asunción Silva

FOR THE READER’S EAR

No, that was not passion,
It was the vague tenderness
Inspired by a sickly child,
Lang syne, and moon pale nights.

The spirit sings only
When the heart is moved,
When, shaken by love’s power, it trembles,
Broods, draws back, says not a word.

True passion might in fact
Have been…these pages,
That were they written in happier times
Would have appeared as tears, not verses.

AL OIDO DEL LECTOR

AL OIDO DEL LECTOR

No fue pasión aquello,
Fue una ternura vaga
Lo que inspiran los niños enfermizos,
Los tiempos idos y las noches pálidas.

El espíritu solo
Al conmoverse canta:
Cuando el amor lo agita poderoso
Tiembla, medita, se recoge y calla.

Pasión hubiera sido
En verdad; estas páginas
En otro tiempo más feliz escritas
No tuvieran estrofas sino lágrimas.
Close

FOR THE READER’S EAR

No, that was not passion,
It was the vague tenderness
Inspired by a sickly child,
Lang syne, and moon pale nights.

The spirit sings only
When the heart is moved,
When, shaken by love’s power, it trembles,
Broods, draws back, says not a word.

True passion might in fact
Have been…these pages,
That were they written in happier times
Would have appeared as tears, not verses.

FOR THE READER’S EAR

No, that was not passion,
It was the vague tenderness
Inspired by a sickly child,
Lang syne, and moon pale nights.

The spirit sings only
When the heart is moved,
When, shaken by love’s power, it trembles,
Broods, draws back, says not a word.

True passion might in fact
Have been…these pages,
That were they written in happier times
Would have appeared as tears, not verses.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
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