Poem “Song of Autumn in Spring” DE RUBEN DARIO

 

Poem “Song of Autumn in Spring”

DE RUBEN DARIO

Youth, divine treasure,

and you'll not return!

When I want to cry, I do not cry...

and sometimes I cry without wanting to...

Plural has been the celestial

story of my heart.

She was a sweet girl, in this

world of mourning and affliction.

She looked like pure dawn;

She smiled like a flower.

It was her dark hair

made of night and pain.

I was shy like a child.

She, naturally, was,

for my love made of ermine,

Herodias and Salome...

Youth, divine treasure,

and you'll not return!

When I want to cry, I do not cry...

and sometimes I cry without wanting to...

And more comforting and more

flattering and expressive,

the other was more sensitive

which I never thought I would find.

Well, to your continuous tenderness

a violent passion united.

In a sheer chiffon peplum

a bacchante was involved...

In her arms she took my dream

and she lulled him to sleep like a baby...

And she killed you, sad and small,

lacking light, lacking faith...

Youth, divine treasure,

You left never to return!

When I want to cry, I do not cry...

and sometimes I cry without wanting to...

Another judged that it was my mouth

the case of her passion;

and that she would gnaw me, crazy,

with her teeth her heart.

Putting in a love of excess

the sight of her will,

while they were hug and kiss

synthesis of eternity;

and of our light meat

always imagine an Eden,

without thinking that Spring

and the meat ends too...

Youth, divine treasure,

and you'll not return!

When I want to cry, I do not cry...

and sometimes I cry without wanting to.

And the others! In so many climates,

in so many lands they always are,

if not excuses for my rhymes

ghosts of my heart.

In vain I looked for the princess

that she was sad to wait.

Life is hard. She is bitter and heavy.

There is no princess to sing anymore!

But despite the stubborn weather,

my thirst for love has no end;

with gray hair, I approach

to the rose bushes in the garden...

Youth, divine treasure,

and you'll not return!

When I want to cry, I do not cry...

and sometimes I cry without wanting to...

But the Golden Dawn is mine!