FROM THE POEM OF THE CID (1140) TO MONEY'S POEM (1965, (I))

 THE POEM OF THE CID

19

The last night in which the Cid sleeps in Castile.

An angel consoles the exile

 

There lay down, My Cid, after night had come;

he slept so deeply a dream seized him sweetly.

The angel Gabriel came to him in a vision:

"Ride forward, Cid, good Campeador,

for no man ever rode forth at so propitious a moment;

as long as you live that which is yours will prosper."

He crossed himself, My Cid, when he awoke. 

20

The Cid camps on the Castillian frontier

He made the sign of the cross, and commended himself

to God.

He was deeply glad because of the dream he had 

dreamed.

¿Venderé mis palabras hoy que carezco de 
utilidad, de ingresos, hoy que nadie me fía? 
Necesito dinero para el amor, pobreza 
para amar. Y el precio de un recuerdo, la subasta 
de un vicio, el inventario de un deseo,
dan valor, no virtud, a mis necesidades,
amplio vocabulario a mis torpezas,
licencia a mi caliza
soledad. Porque el dinero, a veces, es el propio
sueño, es la misma
vida. Y su triunfo, su monopolio, da fervor,
cambio, imaginación, quita vejez y abre
ceños y multiplica los amigos,
y alza faldas y es miel
cristalizando luz, calor. No plaga, lepra
como hoy; alegría,
no frivolidad; ley,
no impunidad. ¿Voy a vender, entonces,
estas palabras? Rico de tanta pérdida,
sin maniobras, sin bolsa, aun sin tentación
y aun sin ruina dorada, ¿a qué la madriguera
de estas palabras que si dan aliento
no dan dinero? ¿Prometen pan o armas?
¿O bien, como un balance mal urdido,
intentan ordenar un tiempo de carestía,
dar sentido a una vida: propiedad o desahucio?

CR

DINERO

“Alianza y condena” (1965)

 

Shall I sell my words today in which I have no

utility, income or credit?

I need money to buy love, poverty

to love. And the price of a memoir, the auction

of a vice, the inventory of a desire,

give value, no virtue, to my necessities,

ample vocabulary to my wrongs,

license to my limestone

loneliness.

Because money is, sometimes, our own

dream, life

itsef. And its victory, its monopoly, gives fervor,

change, imagination, erases aging and open

frowns multiplying friends,

uplifting skirts and it is honey

cristallizing light, heat. Not plague, pandemy

like today; joy,

not frivolity; law,

not impunity.

Shall I sell, then

these words? Rich of so much loss,

without tricks, without purse, even without temptation

and any golden ruin, ¿for which purpose the burrow

of these words giving breath

instead of money? ¿Do they promise bread or arms?

or, like an underfunded balance sheet,

try to order a time of scarcity,

provide meaning to a life: self-ownership or eviction?

 

DINERO

“Alianza y condena” (1965)

(traducción Guillermo Ruiz)