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Blog Details for "Poemas en ingles"
Poemas en inglesPoemas en inglesBlog of poems of English writers and its translation to the Spanish Articles
William Blake -The clod and the pebble-
2006-04-10 04:29:00 The clod and the pebbleWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)'Love seeketh not itself to please,Nor for itself hath any care,But for another gives its ease,And builds a heaven in hell's despair.'So sung a little clod of clay,Trodden with the cattle's feet;But a pebble of the brookWarbled out these meters meet: 'Love seeketh only Self to please,To bind another to its delight,Joys in another's loss of ease,And builds a hell in heaven's despite.'El terrón y el guijarro"El amor no anhela complacerse a sí mismoni por sí mismo se inquieta,en cambio al otro da sosiego,y construye un Cielo en la desolación del Infierno."Así cantaba un diminuto Terrón de Arcillapisoteado por las patas del ganado,pero un Guijarro del cañadónmurmuró estos versos apropiados:"El amor sólo busca darse el gusto,y encadenar al otro a su deleite,se regocija con el desconsuelo ajeno,y construye un Infierno a expensas del Cielo." More About: Liam , Lake
William Blake -The schoolboy-
2006-04-10 04:23:00 The schoolboy William Blak e (1757-1827)I love to rise in a summer mornWhen the birds sing on every tree;The distant huntsman winds his horn,And the skylark sings with me.O! what sweet company!But to go to school on a summer morn,O! it drives all joy away;Under a cruel eye outworn,The little ones spend the dayIn sighing and dismay.Ah! then at times I drooping sit,And spend many an anxious hour,Nor in my book can I take delight,Nor sit in learning's bower,Worn thro' with the dreary shower.How can the bird that is born for joySit in a cage and sing?How can a child, when fears annoy,But droop his tender wing,And forget his youthful spring?O! father and mother, if buds are nippedAnd blossoms blown away,And if the tender plants are strippedOf their joy in the springing day,By sorrow and care's dismay,How shall the summer arise in joy,Or the summer's fruits appear?Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,Or bless the mellowing year,When the blasts of winter appear?El escolarAdoro lev... More About: Liam , Lake
William Blake -On another's sorrow-
2006-04-10 04:17:00 On another's sorrowWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)Can I see another's woe,And not be in sorrow too?Can I see another's grief,And not seek for kind relief?Can I see a falling tear,And not feel my sorrow's share?Can a father see his childWeep, nor be with sorrow filled?Can a mother sit and hearAn infant groan, an infant fear?No, no! never can it be!Never, never can it be!And can He who smiles on allHear the wren with sorrows small,Hear the small bird's grief and care,Hear the woes that infants bear --And not sit beside the next,Pouring pity in their breast,And not sit the cradle near,Weeping tear on infant's tear?And not sit both night and day,Wiping all our tears away?Oh no! never can it be!Never, never can it be!He doth give his joy to all:He becomes an infant small,He becomes a man of woe,He doth feel the sorrow too.Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,And thy Maker is not by:Think not thou canst weep a tear,And thy Maker is not year.Oh He gives to us his joy,That our grief He may dest... More About: Liam , Lake
William Blake -The land of dreams-
2006-04-09 22:49:00 The land of dreamsWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Awake, awake, my little boy!Thou wast thy mother's only joy;Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?Awake! thy father does thee keep.'O, what land is the Land of Dreams ?What are its mountains, and what are its streams?O father! I saw my mother there,Among the lilies by waters fair.'Among the lambs, clothèd in white,She walk'd with her Thomas in sweet delight.I wept for joy, like a doveI mourn; O! when shall I return again?Dear child, I also by pleasant streamsHave wander'd all night in the Land of Dreams;But tho' calm and warm the waters wide,I could not get to the other side.'Father, O father! what do we hereIn this land of unbelief and fear?The Land of Dreams is better far,Above the light of the morning star'.El país de los sueños¡Despierta, despierta, mi pequeño!Tú eras la única alegría de tu madre;¿Por qué lloras en tu sueño tranquilo?¡Despierta! Tu padre te protege.'Oh, ¿que tierra es la Tierra de los Sueños?¿Cuáles son sus mon... More About: Liam
William Blake -A little girl lost-
2006-04-09 22:39:00 A little girl lostWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Children of the future age, Reading this indignant page, Know that in a former time, Love, sweet Love, was thought a crime!In the Age of Gold Freefrom winter's cold,Youth and maiden brightTo the holy light,Naked in the sunny beams delight.Once a youthful pair,Fill'd with softest care,Met in garden brightWhere the holy lightHad just remov'd the curtains of the night.There, in rising day,On the grass they play;Parents were afar,Strangers came not near,And the maiden soon forgot her fear.Tired with kisses sweet,They agree to meetWhen the silent sleepWaves o'er heaven's deep,And the weary tired wanderers weep.To her father whiteCame the maiden bright;But his loving look,Like the holy book,All her tenders limbs with terror shook.'Ona! pale and weak!To thy father speak:O! the trembling fearO! the dismal care,That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair!'Una pequeña niña perdidaNiños de una edad futura,Al leer esta página indignada, Sabed que ... More About: Lost , Girl , Liam
William Blake -A little boy lost-
2006-04-09 22:37:00 A little boy lost William Blak e (1757-1827)"Nought loves another as itself,Nor venerates another so,Nor is it possible to thoughtA greater than itself to know."And, father, how can I love youOr any of my brothers more?I love you like the little birdThat picks up crumbs around the door."The Priest sat by and heard the child;In trembling zeal he seized his hair,He led him by his little coat,And all admired the priestly care.And standing on the altar high,"Lo, what a fiend is here! said he:"One who sets reason up for judgeOf our most holy mystery."The weeping child could not be heard,The weeping parents wept in vain:They stripped him to his little shirt,And bound him in an iron chain,And burned him in a holy placeWhere many had been burned before;The weeping parents wept in vain.Are such thing done on Albion's shore?El niño perdido"Nadie ama a otro como a sí mismoy a nadie venera más.Ni es posible al pensamientoconocer algo superior a él.¿Cómo puedo amarte, padre, más?¿Cómo amar más a... More About: Lost , Liam
William Blake -The new Jerusalem-
2006-04-09 22:32:00 The new Jerusalem William Blake (1757-1827)And did those feet in ancient timeWalk upon England's mountains green?And was the holy Lamb of GodOn England's pleasant pastures seen?And did the Countenance DivineShine forth upon the clouded hills?And was Jerusalem build hereAmong these dark Satanic Mills?Bring me my bow of burning gold!Bring me my arrows of desire!Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!Bring me my charriot of fire!I will not cease from mental fight,Nor shall my sword sleep in my handTill we have built JerusalemIn England's green and pleasant land.La nueva Jerusalén¿Y caminaron de antiguo esos piesPor las verdes montañas de Inglaterra?¿Y fue el sagrado Cordero de DiosVisto en las plácidas praderas de Inglaterra?¿Y brilló el semblante divinoSobre nuestras nubladas colinas?¿Y se construyó Jerusalén aquíEntre estos oscuros Molinos Satánicos?¡Traedme mi arco de oro ardiente!¡Traedme mis flechas de deseo!¡Traedme mi lanza! ¡Oh nubes, abríos!¡Traedme mi carroza de fuego!No cesar... More About: Salem , Liam
William Blake -The Tiger-
2006-04-09 22:21:00 The Tiger William Blak e (1757-1827)Tyger! Tyger! burning brightIn the forests of the night,What immortal hand or eyeCould frame thy fearful symmetry?In what distant deeps or skiesBurn the fire of thine eyes?On what wings dare he aspire?What the hand dare sieze the fire?And what shoulder, & what art,Could twist the sinews of thy heart?And when thy heart began to beat,What dread hand? & what dread feet?What the hammer? what the chain?In what furnace thy brain?What the anvil? what the dread graspDare its deadly terrors clasp?When the stars threw down their spear,And water'd heaven with their tears,Did he smile his work to see?Did he who made the Lamb make thee?Tyger! Tyger! burning brightIn the forests of the night,What immortal hand or eyeDare frame thy fearful symmetry?El tigre¡Tigre! ¡Tigre! luz llameanteEn los bosques de la noche,¿Qué ojo o mano inmortalPudo idear tu terrible simetría?¿En qué distantes abismos, en qué cielos,Ardió el fuego de tus ojos?¿Con qué alas osó elevarse... More About: Liam
William Blake -The sick rose-
2006-04-09 22:16:00 The sick roseWilliam Blake (1757-1827)O Rose , thou art sick!The invisible wormThat flies in the night,In the howling storm,Has found out thy bedOf crimsom joy,And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.La rosa enferma¡Oh, Rosa, estás enferma!El gusano invisibleQue vuela por la noche,En la tempestad que aúlla,Ha descubierto tu camaDe gozo carmesí,Y su amor oscuro, secreto,Te consume la vida. More About: Sick , Liam
William Blake -Nurse's song-
2006-04-09 21:48:00 Nurse's song William Blak e (1757-1827)When voices of children are heard on the greenAnd laughing is heard on the hill,My heart is at rest within my breastAnd everything else is stillThen come home my children the sun is gone downAnd the dews of night ariseCome come leave off play, and let us awayTill the morning appears in the skiesNo no let us play, for it is yet dayAnd we cannot go to sleepBesides in the sky, the little birds flyAnd the hills are all covered with sheepWell well go & play till the light fades awayAnd then go home to bedThe little ones leaped & shouted & laugh'dAnd all the hills echoedCantar de la niñeraCuando las voces de los niños se oyen en el pradoy las risas alcanzan la colina,mi corazón se aquieta en el pechoy todo lo demás queda en silencio."Venid a casa, hijos míos, que el sol ya se ha puestoy los rocíos de la noche se elevan;venid, venid, basta de juegos, vayamos a reposarhasta que la mañana surja en los cielos.""No, no, déjanos jugar, que todavía hay... More About: Song , Liam
William Blake -My pretty rose tree-
2006-04-09 21:44:00 My pretty rose tree William Blake (1757-1827)A flower was offered to me,Such a flower as May never bore;But I said 'I've a pretty rose tree,'And I passed the sweet flower o'er.Then I went to my pretty rose tree,To tend her by day and by night;But my rose turned away with jealousy,And her thorns were my only delight.Mi bonito rosalMe ofrecieron una flor,una flor tal que nunca se vio en mayo.Pero yo dije: "Tengo un bonito rosal",y pasé por alto a la dulce flor.Fui entonces hasta mi Bonito Rosaly lo cuidé de día y de noche;pero mi Rosa me dio la espalda, celosa,y sus espinas fueron mi solo deleite. More About: Rose , Pretty , Tree , Liam
William Blake -London-
2006-04-09 21:39:00 LondonWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)I wandered through each chartered street,Near where the chartered Thames does flow,A mark in every face I meet,Marks of weakness, marks of woe.In every cry of every man,In every infant's cry of fear,In every voice, in every ban,The mind-forged manacles I hear:How the chimney-sweeper's cryEvery blackening church appals,And the hapless soldier's sighRuns in blood down palace-walls.But most, through midnight streets I hearHow the youthful harlot's curseBlasts the new-born infant's tear,And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.LondresDeambulo por cada calle privilegiadacerca de donde fluye el privilegiado Támesis,y hay marcas en cada rostro que encuentro:señales de flaqueza, signos de sufrimiento.En cada grito de cada Hombre,en los clamores de miedo de los niños,en cada voz, en cada proclama,oigo las cadenas forjadas por la mente.Y cómo el grito del deshollinadora toda sombría iglesia consterna;y el suspiro del infortunado soldadocorre hecho sangr... More About: London , Liam
William Blake -The little vagabond-
2006-04-09 21:36:00 The little vagabondWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)Dear mother, dear mother, the church is cold,But the ale-house is healthy and pleasant and warm;Besides I can tell where I am used well,Such usage in Heaven will never do well.But if at the church they would give us some ale,And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,We'd sing and we'd pray all the live-long day,Nor ever once wish from the church to stray.Then the parson might preach, and drink, and sing,And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring;And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.And God, like a father rejoicing to seeHis children as pleasant and happy as he,Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.El pequeño vagabundoQuerida madre, querida madre, qué helada está la Iglesia,pero la taberna es reconfortante, agradable y cálida;además, sé perfectamente dónde me tratan bien,aunque tal trato en el cielo nunca dar... More About: Gabon , Liam
William Blake -The lily-
2006-04-09 21:33:00 The lilyWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:While the Lily white shall in love delight,Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.El lirioLa modesta Rosa pone al frente una espina,y el humilde Carnero un cuerno amenazador.Mientras, el blanco lirio se deleita en el amor:ni espinas ni amenazas ensucian su belleza radiante. More About: Liam
William Blake -Introduction to Songs of Experience-
2006-04-09 21:28:00 Introduction to Songs of Experience William Blake (1757-1827)Hear the voice of the Bard,Who present, past, and future, sees;Whose ears have heardThe Holy WordThat walk'd among the ancient trees;Calling the lapsèd soul,And weeping in the evening dew;That might controlThe starry pole,And fallen, fallen light renew!'O Earth, O Earth, return!Arise from out the dewy grass!Night is worn,And the mornRises from the slumbrous mass.'Turn away no more;Why wilt thou turn away?The starry floor,The watery shore,Is given thee till the break of day.Introducción a los Cantos de Experiencia¡Escuchen la voz del Bardo!El que contempla Presente, Pasado y Futuro;cuyos oídos escucharonla Palabra Sagrada,el que anduvo entre los ancianos árboles.Convocaba al Alma descarriada,lloraba en el rocío del crepúsculo;el que podía controlarel polo estrellado,y renovar la luz caída, rebajada.¡Oh Tierra, Oh Tierra, regresa!"Emerge de la hierba plena de rocío;la noche se agotay la mañanase yergue desde la masa aletar... More About: Introduction , Intro
William Blake -Introduction to the Songs of Innocence-
2006-04-09 21:24:00 Introduction to the Songs of InnocenceWilliam Blake (1757-1827)Piping down the valleys wild,Piping songs of pleasant glee,On a cloud I saw a child,And he laughing said to me:'Pipe a song about a Lamb!'So I piped with merry cheer.'Piper, pipe that song again;'So I piped: he wept to hear.'Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;Sing thy songs of happy cheer:!'So I sang the same again,While he wept with joy to hear.'Piper, sit thee down and writeIn a book, that all may read.'So he vanish'd from my sight;And I pluck'd a hollow reed,And I made a rural pen,And I stain'd the water clear,And I wrote my happy songsEvery child may joy to hear.Introducción a los Cantos de InocenciaSoplaba mi flautín por valles silvestres,tocaba canciones de júbilo afable,en una nube distinguí a un niño,que con risas me dijo:"¡Sopla un cantar que hable del Cordero!"Y lo toqué con ánimo risueño."Flautista, sopla de nuevo ese cantar".Volví a hacerlo: lloró al escucharlo."Suelta tu flautín, tu flautín dichoso;can... More About: Introduction , Intro , Liam
William Blake -Holy Thursday (2)-
2006-04-08 21:17:00 Holy Thursday (2)William Blake (1757-1827)Is this a holy thing to see.In a rich and fruitful land.Babes reduced to misery.Fed with cold and usurous hand?Is that trembling cry a song?Can it be a song of joy?And so many children poor?It is a land of poverty!And their sun does never shine.And their fields are bleak & bare.And their ways are fill'd with thornsIt is eternal winter there.For where-e'er the sun does shine.And where-e'er the rain does fall:Babe can never hunger there,Nor poverty the mind appall.Jueves Santo (2)¿Acaso es algo santoen una tierra rica y fructíferaver a bebés condenados a la miseriay alimentados con mano fría y usurera?¿Es este clamor tembloroso una canción?¿Puede ser llamado un canto de júbilo?¿Con tantas criaturas miserables?¡Esta es una tierra de pobreza!Y su sol no brilla jamás,y sus campos son páramos desnudos,y sus senderos están plagados de espinas:el invierno eterno se impone allí.Pues dondequiera que brille el sol,donde sea que caiga la lluvia,los n... More About: Holy , Liam
William Blake -Holy Thursday-
2006-04-08 21:09:00 Holy Thursday William Blake (1757-1827)Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,Came children walking two and two, in read, and blue, and green:Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow.Oh what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town!Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own.The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.Now like a mighty wild they raise to heaven the voice of song,Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among:Beneath them sit the aged man, wise guardians of the poor.Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.Jueves SantoEra un jueves Santo, limpios sus rostros inocentes,los niños andaban en parejas, de rojo, azul y verde,bedeles canosos iban delante, con varas blancas como nieve,fluyendo como el Támesis hasta dentro de la alta cúpula de San Pab... More About: Holy , Liam
William Blake -The garden of Love-
2006-04-08 21:06:00 The garden of Love William Blake (1757-1827)I went to the Garden of Love,And saw what I never had seen;A Chapel was built in the midst,Where I used to play on the green.And the gates of this Chapel were shutAnd "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;So I turned to the Garden of LoveThat so many sweet flowers bore.And I saw it was filled with graves,And tombstones where flowers should be;And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,And binding with briars my joys and desires.El jardín del AmorFui hasta el jardín del Amor,y vi lo que jamás había visto:una Capilla construida en su centro,sobre el verde donde de niño jugaba.Los portales de la Capilla estaban cerrados,y escrito sobre la puerta había un "No lo harás",así que me volví hacia el jardín del Amordonde crecían tantas delicias floridas.Y vi que estaba lleno de tumbas,con lápidas donde debían verse flores;y Curas de sotanas negras rondabany ponían vallas a mis gozos y deseos. More About: Liam
William Blake -The fly-
2006-04-08 21:04:00 The flyWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)Little Fly,Thy summer's playMy thoughtless handHas brushed away.Am not IA fly like thee?Or art not thouA man like me?For I danceAnd drink, and sing,Till some blind handShall brush my wing.If thought is lifeAnd strength and breathAnd the wantOf thought is death;Then am IA happy fly,If I live,Or if I die.La moscaPequeña mosca,tu jugueteó veraniegofue truncadopor mi descuidada mano.¿No soy youna mosca como tú?¿O no eres túun hombre como yo?Porque bailoy bebo, y cantohasta que alguna mano ciegame barre el ala.Si el pensamiento es vida,fortaleza y aliento;y la carenciade pensamiento es muerte;entonces yo soyuna mosca feliz,ya vivo, ya muerto. More About: Liam , Lake
William Blake -Earth's answer-
2006-04-08 21:01:00 Earth's answerWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)Earth raised up her headFrom the darkness dread and drear,Her light fled,Stony, dread,And her locks covered with grey despair.'Prisoned on watery shore,Starry jealousy does keep my denCold and hoar;Weeping o're,I hear the father of the ancient men.'Selfish father of men!Cruel, jealous, selfish fear!Can delight,Chained in night,The virgins of youth and morning bear?'Does spring hide its joy,When buds and blossoms grow?Does the sowerSow by night,Or the plowman in darkness plough?'Break this heavy chain,That does freeze my bones around!Selfish, vain,Eternal bane,That free love with bondage bound.'Respuesta de la TierraLa Tierra alzó su cabezadesde la tiniebla pavorosa, lúgubre.Carente de luz,pétreo espanto.Con su cabellera cubierta de grisdesesperación."Aprisionada en la costa empapada,un centelleo celoso custodia miescondrijofrío y helado,y entre lágrimasescucho al Padre de los hombresantiguos.¡Padre egoísta de los hombres!¡Miedo cruel, ce... More About: Answer , Liam
William Blake -The chimney-sweeper-
2006-04-08 20:54:00 The chimney-sweeperWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)When my mother died I was very young,And my father sold me while yet my tongueCould scarcely cry "Weep! weep! weep! weep!"So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved; so I said,"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for, when your head's bare,You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."And so he was quiet, and that very night,As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight! --That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.And by came an angel, who had a bright key,And he opened the coffins, and let them all free;Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run,And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind;And the Angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.And so... More About: Liam , Lake
William Blake -A poison tree-
2006-04-08 20:51:00 A poison treeWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)I was angry with my friend:I told my wrath, my wrath did end.I was angry with my foe:I told it not, my wrath did grow.And I watered it in fears,Night and morning with my tears;And I sunned it with smiles,And with soft deceitful wiles.And it grew both day and night,Till it bore an apple bright.And my foe beheld it shine.And he knew that it was mine,And into my garden stoleWhen the night had veiled the pole;In the morning glad I seeMy foe outstretched beneath the tree.Un árbol venenosoEstaba enojado con mi amigo:le manifesté mi ira, la ira terminó.Estaba enojado con mi enemigo:me quedé callado, y mi ira aumentó.En el miedo la fui regando,de noche y de día con mis lágrimas;con sonrisas la fui asoleando,y con sutiles y arteras estratagemas.Así creció de día y de noche,hasta volverse una brillante manzana;y mi enemigo observó su brillo,y supo que era mía,y furtivo entró a mi jardíncuando la noche envolvió al follaje.Por la mañana satisfecho via mi en... More About: Tree , Liam
William Blake -The blossom-
2006-04-08 20:42:00 The blossomWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)Merry, merry sparrow!Under leaves so greenA happy blossomSees you, swift as arrow,Seek your cradle narrow,Near my bosom.Pretty, pretty robin!Under leaves so greenA happy blossomHears you sobbing, sobbing,Pretty, pretty robin,Near my bosom.La flor¡Risueño, risueño gorrión!Bajo las hojas tan verdesUna flor felizte ve que raudo como una flechaBuscas tu cuna ceñidajunto a mi pecho.¡Lindo, lindo petirrojo!Bajo las hojas tan verdesuna flor felizte oye sollozar y sollozar,lindo, lindo petirrojo,junto a mi pecho. More About: Liam , Lake
William Blake -A cradle song-
2006-04-08 15:46:00 A cradle songWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)Sweet dreams form a shade,O'er my lovely infants head.Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,By happy silent moony beamsSweet sleep with soft down.Weave thy brows an infant crown.Sweet sleep Angel mild,Hover o'er my happy child.Sweet smiles in the night,Hover over my delight.Sweet smiles Mothers smiles,All the livelong night beguiles.Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,Chase not slumber from thy eyes,Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,All the dovelike moans beguiles.Sleep sleep happy child,All creation slept and smil'd.Sleep sleep, happy sleep.While o'er thee thy mother weepSweet babe in thy face,Holy image I can trace.Sweet babe once like thee.Thy maker lay and wept for meWept for me for thee for all,When he was an infant small.Thou his image ever see.Heavenly face that smiles on thee,Smiles on thee on me on all,Who became an infant small,Infant smiles are His own smiles,Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.Canto para acunarDulces sueños, formad una pantallaSobre l... More About: Song , Liam
William Blake -Night-
2006-04-08 15:44:00 NightWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)The sun descending in the west,The evening star does shine;The birds are silent in their nest,And I must seek for mine.The moon, like a flower,In heaven's high bower,With silent delightSits and smiles on the night.Farewell, green fields and happy groves,Where flocks have took delight.Where lambs have nibbled, silent movesThe feet of angels bright;Unseen they pour blessing,And joy without ceasing,On each bud and blossom,And each sleeping bosom.They look in every thoughtless nest,Where birds are covered warm;They visit caves of every beast,To keep them all from harm.If they see any weepingThat should have been sleeping,They pour sleep on their head,And sit down by their bed.When wolves and tigers howl for prey,They pitying stand and weep;Seeking to drive their thirst away,And keep them from the sheep.But if they rush dreadful,The angels, most heedful,Receive each mild spirit,New worlds to inherit.And there the lion's ruddy eyesShall flow with tears of g... More About: Night , Liam
William Blake -Spring-
2006-04-08 15:35:00 SpringWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)Sound the flute!Now it's mute!Bird's delight,Day and night,Nightingale,In the dale,Lark in sky,Merrily,Merrily merrily, to welcome in the year.Little boy,Full of joy;Little girl,Sweet and small;Cock does crow,So do you;Merry voice,Infant noise;Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.Little lamb,Here I am;Come and lickMy white neck;Let me pullYour soft wool;Let me kissYour soft face;Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.La Primavera¡Que resuene el flautínQue ahora está callado!Delicia de las avesDe día y de noche;El ruiseñorEn la quebrada,La alondra en el cielo,Festivamente,Festivamente, festivamente,Para darle la bienvenida al año.El muchachito,Repleto de gozo;La muchachita,Dulce y diminuta;El gallo cantaComo tú lo haces;Voz alborozada,Barullo infantil,Jubilosamente, Jubilosamente,Para darle la bienvenida al año.Corderito,Aquí estoy;Acércate y lameMi blanco cuello;Deja que tironeeTu lanilla suave;Déjame besarTu suave rostro:Jubilosamente,Jubilosa... More About: Spring , Liam
William Blake -Infant sorrow-
2006-04-08 15:29:00 Infant sorrowWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)My mother groaned, my father wept,Into the dangerous world I leapt;Helpless, naked, piping loud,Like a fiend hid in a cloud.Struggling in my father's hands,Striving against my swaddling bands,Bound and weary, I thought bestTo sulk upon my mother's breast.Pena infantilQuejidos de mi madre. Llanto de mi padre.Emergí hacia el peligroso mundo:indefenso, desnudo, a los chillidos,como un demonio oculto en una nube.Debatiéndome entre las manos de mi padre,tizoneaba los lazos de mis pañales.Hasta que inmóvil y exhausto pensé que lo mejorera resignarme sobre el pecho de mimadre. More About: Liam , Infant
William Blake -Laughing song-
2006-04-08 15:29:00 Laughing songWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;When the air does laugh with our merry wit,And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;when the meadows laugh with lively green,And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,When Mary and Susan and EmilyWith their sweet round mouths sing "Ha, ha he!"When the painted birds laugh in the shade,Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread:Come live, and be merry, and join with me,To sing the sweet chorus of "Ha, ha, he!"Canto del reírCuando los verdes bosques ríen con la voz del júbilo,y el arroyo encrespado se desplaza riendo;cuando ríe el aire con nuestras divertidas ocurrencias,y la verde colina ríe del estrépito que hacemos;cuando los prados ríen con vívidos verdes,y ríe la langosta ante la escena gozosa;cuando Mary y Susan y Emilycantan "¡ja, ja, ji!" con sus dulces bocas redondas.Cuando los pájaros pintados ríen en la sombradonde nuestra mesa desbo... More About: Song , Liam
William Blake -Infant joy-
More articles from this author:2006-04-08 15:26:00 Infant joyWilliam Blak e (1757-1827)"I have no name;I am but two days old."What shall I call thee?"I happy am,Joy is my name."Sweet joy befall thee!Pretty joy!Sweet joy, but two days old.Sweet Joy I call thee:Thou dost smile,I sing the while;Sweet joy befall thee!Alegría"No poseo nombre:pero nací hace dos días."¿Cómo te llamaré?"Soy feliz.Me llamo alegría."¡Que el dulce júbilo sea contigo!¡Bonita alegría!Dulce alegría, de apenas dos días,te llamo dulce alegría:así tú sonríes,mientras yo canto.¡Que el dulce júbilo sea contigo!Versión de Antonio Restrepo More About: Liam , Infant 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 |
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