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The Dead The Recitation John Huston

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Published on Aug 9, 2009

IRISH POEMS II
May 13, '06 5:33 PM
for everyone
IS LATE LAS NIGHT THE DOG WAS SPEAKING OF YOU. THE SNIPE WAS SPEAKING OF YiTS OU IN HER DEEP MARSH. IT IS YOU ARE THE LONELY BIRD THROUGHOUT THE WOODS. AND THAT YOU MAY BE WITHOUT A MATE UNTIL YOU FIND ME.
YOU PROMISED ME ABD YOU SAID LIE TO ME, THAT YOU WOULD BE BEFORE ME WHERE THE SHEEP ARE FLOCKED. I AVE A WHISTLE AND THREE HUNDRED CRIES TO YOU, AND I FOUND NOTHING BUT A BLEASING LAMB.
YOU PROMISED ME A THING THAT IS HARD FOR YOU, A SHIP OF GOLD UNDER A SILVER MAST, TWELVE TOWNS AND A MARKET IN ALL OF THEM, AND A FINE WHITE COURT BY THE SIDE OF THE SEA.
YOU PROMISED ME A THINT THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE, THAT YOU WOULD GIVE ME GLOVES OF THE SKIN OF FISH, THAT YOU WOULD GIVE ME SHOES OF THE SKIN OF BIRD, AND A SUIT OF THE DEAREST SILK IN IRELAND.
MY MOTHER SAID TO ME NOT TO BE TALKINGO WITH YOU TODAY, OR TOMORROW OR ON SUNDAY. IT WAS A BAD TIME SHE TOOK FOR TELLING ME THAT. IT WAS SHUTTING THE DOOR AFTER THE HOUSE WAS ROBBED.
YOU HAVE TAKEN THE EAST FROM ME, YOU HAVE TAKEN THE WEST FROM ME, YOU HAVE TAKEN WHAT IS BEFORE ME AND WHAT IS BEHIND ME. YOU HAVE TAKEN THE MOON, YOU HAVE TAKEN THE SUN FROM ME. AND MY FEAR IS GREAT, THAT YOU HAVE TAKEN GOD FROM ME.
IRISH ANONIMUS. TRANSLATE: LADY GREGORY. ( taken from William B. Yeats: " Ideas about the good and the bad".




POEMA IRLANDES. May 13, '06 5:49 PM
for everyone

Anoche, muy tarde el perro hablaba de ti, la agachadiza hablaba de ti en lo profundo de su pantano. Té eres el pájaro solitario que recorre los bosques y quizás no tengas compañero hasta que me encuentres.

Me lo prometiste y mentiste que estarías antes que yo donde se reúne el rebaño. Te silbé y di trescientas voces, y sólo hallé una oveja balando.

Me prometiste algo difícil para ti, un barco de oro bajo un mástil de plata, doce ciudades y un mercado en cada una de ellas, y una hermosa corte blanca junto al mar.

Me prometiste algo que no es posible, que me darías guantes de piel de pez, que me darías zapatos de piel de ave y un traje de la seda más rica de Irlanda.

Mi madre me dijo que no hablara contigo, ni hoy ni mañana, ni el domingo. Escogió un mal momento para decírmelo, fue como cerrar la puerta después que la casa fue robada.

Me despojaste del este, me despojaste del oeste; tomaste lo que está delante de mi y lo que está destrás de mí; me quistaste la luna, me quitaste el sol y mucho me temo, que me hayas arrebata a Dios". Anónimo irlandés. Traducido por Lady Gregory. Tomado del William B. Yeats: " Ideas sobre el bien y el mal

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