A STANDING GROUND
EL SUELO QUE PISAS
Flee the crowd and dwell securely in
trueness.
Let your own suffice, though it not be
much*
A pesar de lo preciso y ansioso que he sido,
Pararé y me retiraré
De la multitud de aquellos que aprueban
Lo que digo, y permaneceré aparte.
No hay una promesa terrenal de vida o de paz
Sino donde las raíces se dividen y trenzan
Sus pacientes y silenciosos pasajes en la oscuridad;
Desenraizado he estado furioso sin un propósito.
No estoy atado a ningún lugar público,
Sino a un lugar mío propio
Donde he plantado viñas y frutales,
Y en el calor del día asciendo
A la saludable umbría de los bosques.
Mejor que ningún argumento es levantarse con el alba
Y recoger los frutos rojos húmedos del rocío en una
taza
WB
(traducción Guillermo Ruiz. Dedicada a Rafael Zamora y a su jardín)
*Truth: A Middle
English Ballade of Good Counsel by Geoffrey Chaucer
Flee the crowd and
dwell securely in trueness.
Let your own suffice, though it not be much,
For greed leads to
hate and grasping to coldness;
The crowd leads to
envy, and wealth deceives such
As hold too
tightly everything they touch.
Rule yourself well, that others clearly see,
And have no doubt:
the truth shall set you free.
Don’t
try to amend all that is amiss,
Trusting that Lady
who spins like a ball;
True rest lies in
spurning busyness.
There’s no sense in kicking the point of an awl
Nor in the crock’s
struggle against a wall.
Rule yourself, you who rule others’ deeds,
And have no doubt:
the truth shall set you free.
Take what is sent
to you in obedience;
struggle, for this
world surely begs a fall.
We have no home here, only wilderness.
Go forth, pilgrim! Go forth, beast, from your stall!
Know our true home and thank the God of all.
Hold your course and follow your spirit’s lead,
And have no doubt:
the truth shall set you free.
JARDINES DE LA CALLE BRAILLE
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