Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Pablo Neruda

Poem XV

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.

As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
and you are like the word Melancholy.

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.
And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you:
Let me come to be still in your silence.

And let me talk to you with your silence
that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it's not true.

Gedicht XV

Ik houd ervan wanneer je zwijgt, dan is het net of je afwezig bent
en mij hoort uit de verte, en mijn stem raakt je niet aan.
Dan lijkt het of je ogen weggevlogen zijn
en of een kus je mond verzegeld heeft.
 
Omdat alle dingen zijn vervuld van mijn ziel,
doem jij op uit de dingen, van mijn ziel vervuld.
Als vlinder van droomstof lijk je op mijn ziel
en lijk je op het woord ‘melancholie’.
 
Ik houd ervan wanneer je zwijgt en als op afstand bent.
Dan is het net of je klaagt, een kirrende vlinder.
En je hoort me uit de verte, en mijn stem bereikt je niet:
sta mij toe te zwijgen met jouw stilte.
 
Sta mij toe om ook tot je te spreken met je stilte,
helder als een lamp, eenvoudig als een ring.
Jij bent de nacht, verstild, bezaaid met sterren.
Jouw stilte lijkt van ster, zo ver en ongekunsteld.
 
Ik houd ervan wanneer je zwijgt, dan is het net of je afwezig bent.
Afstandelijk en smartelijk alsof je was gestorven.
Dan reikt één enkel woord, één glimlach.
En ik ben blij, blij dat het niet zo is.

Poema XV

Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente,
y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.
Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado
y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.
 
Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma
emerges de las cosas, Vena del alma mía.
Mariposa de sueno, te pareces a mi alma,
y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.
 
Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante.
Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo.
Y me oyes desde lefos, y mi voz no te alcanza:
déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.
 
Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio
claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo.
Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.
Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.
 
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.
Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto.
Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.
Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.
Close

Poem XV

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.

As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
and you are like the word Melancholy.

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.
And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you:
Let me come to be still in your silence.

And let me talk to you with your silence
that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it's not true.

Poem XV

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.

As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
and you are like the word Melancholy.

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.
And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you:
Let me come to be still in your silence.

And let me talk to you with your silence
that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it's not true.
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Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
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