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Poem

León de Greiff

CANZONET

It rains outside the window (Verlainesque
rain, if not in my heart:
my heart ran away one morning
in pursuit of another song).

It rains outside the window (melancholic
rain, in some ways so poetic
– but less, prosaic, or so symbolic . . . )
It rains, it rains, nothing more . . . dismal Rain.

I never knew how to watch the rain
outside the window – philosophic trance –
more often than not it fell upon (so blond
then) my locks – atrophic trance –.

It rains outside the window. I smoke. I write.
It isolates me, the window from the urban
rush . . . and I in my cage, lascivious
bird thirsting always in vain.

It rains outside the window (Verlainesque
rain, if not in my heart)
My heart ran away – capricious one –
after a silly song
without rhyme or reason,
                                               neither here nor there.


May - June 1947.

CANCIONCILLA

CANCIONCILLA

Llueve tras de los vidrios (verleniana
lluvia, si no en mi corazón:
mi corazón se fugó una mañana
detrás de otra canción).

Llueve tras de los vidrios (melancólica
lluvia, en manera alguna tan poética
– pero, menos, prosaica, – o tan simbólica . . . )
Llueve, llueve no más . . . Lluvia esplinética.

Yo no sabía de mirar la lluvia
tras de los vidrios – trance filosófico –
las más veces cayó sobre (fue rubia
cuando fue) mi melena . . . – trance atrófico –.

Llueve tras de los vidrios. Fumo. Escribo.
Aíslanme los vidrios del urbano
tráfago . . . , y en mi jaula soy lascivo
pájaro sitibundo siempre en vano.

Llueve tras de los vidrios (verleniana
lluvia, si no en mi corazón)
Mi corazón se fugó – tarambana –
tras una cancioncilla casquivana
sin ritmo ni razón,
                               sin ton ni son.


                                               Mayo-junio 1947.
Close

CANZONET

It rains outside the window (Verlainesque
rain, if not in my heart:
my heart ran away one morning
in pursuit of another song).

It rains outside the window (melancholic
rain, in some ways so poetic
– but less, prosaic, or so symbolic . . . )
It rains, it rains, nothing more . . . dismal Rain.

I never knew how to watch the rain
outside the window – philosophic trance –
more often than not it fell upon (so blond
then) my locks – atrophic trance –.

It rains outside the window. I smoke. I write.
It isolates me, the window from the urban
rush . . . and I in my cage, lascivious
bird thirsting always in vain.

It rains outside the window (Verlainesque
rain, if not in my heart)
My heart ran away – capricious one –
after a silly song
without rhyme or reason,
                                               neither here nor there.


May - June 1947.

CANZONET

It rains outside the window (Verlainesque
rain, if not in my heart:
my heart ran away one morning
in pursuit of another song).

It rains outside the window (melancholic
rain, in some ways so poetic
– but less, prosaic, or so symbolic . . . )
It rains, it rains, nothing more . . . dismal Rain.

I never knew how to watch the rain
outside the window – philosophic trance –
more often than not it fell upon (so blond
then) my locks – atrophic trance –.

It rains outside the window. I smoke. I write.
It isolates me, the window from the urban
rush . . . and I in my cage, lascivious
bird thirsting always in vain.

It rains outside the window (Verlainesque
rain, if not in my heart)
My heart ran away – capricious one –
after a silly song
without rhyme or reason,
                                               neither here nor there.


May - June 1947.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère