Esta sección no quiere ni va a incluir todas las Rimas de Bécquer. Como poeta y traductor bien sé que toda traducción es cuestión de opinión y siempre se puede mejorar: si alguien quiere contribuir con sus proprias traducciones,será muy agradecido.
No se pretende que sea ni literal, ni en verso, lo importante es que el que lea el texto inglés logre entender lo que dice el poeta en el texto original.  A todas las traducciones se les añadirá el email de contacto del traductor.

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This section will not nor does not want to include translations of all of Bécquer's poems. As published poet and translator, I well know that translating is a matter of opinion as much as of skill: translations can always be improved. If anybody feels likes contributing, their efforts will be more than welcome. It isn't necessary for the translation to be literal or in verse, the only important thing is that the reader of the English text should be able to understand what the poet is saying in the original. All translations will be acknowleged and your email will be posted with the text.

Note: This is my personal homepage. I am actually very busy as a webmaster and I do not have any time for translating. I hope these pages might help you.

Rima VII

In the dark corner of the hall,

perhaps forgotten by her mistress,

silent and dusty,

laid the harp.

So many notes slept in her strings,

as the songbird sleeps in the branches,

waiting for the snowy hand

that knows how to awake them!

Alas! - I thought - how often does genius

likewise sleep in the deepest of the heart,

and a voice, like Lazarus, awaits

to be told "Rise and walk!

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima IX

The whining air kisses

and playfully curls the nimble waves;

The sun kisses the western cloud,

lending it purple and golden hues,

The flame, around the burning trunk

to kiss another flame it slips,

And even the willow tree, bowing under his own weight,

to the river that kisses him returns the kiss.

                                                                                                Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima XIV

I saw you for a brief instant,   floating before my eyes

the sight of her eyes took hold in me

like the dark stain rimmed with fire

that floats and blind when looking at the sun.

Wherever I  look

I behold again her flaming pupils,

but I don't find you, you are

your eyes, nothing more.

From the corner of my bedroom I see them

shining fantastically wild;

when I sleep I feel them raise,

wide open, staring at me.

I know that by night the will-of-the-wisp

leads the wayfarer to his death;

I am drawn by your eyes,

drawn, yet I do not know whereto.

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima XV

Hovering misty gauze,

curling belt of white surf,

reverberating sound

of a golden harp,

breeze' light kiss, wave of light:

that' s you.

You, impalpable shadow,

everytime I try to touch you, you vanish -

just like the flame, the sound,

the mist, and the whining of the blue lake!

A resounding wave in a sea that knows no beaches,

a wandering comet in the empty space,

the protracted lament of the voiceless wind,

eternal longing for something better:

that' s me.

In my agony, day and night, I gaze

searchingly into your eyes;

crazed, I run tirelessly

after a shadow, following the ardent daughter of an apparition!

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima XXI

What is poetry ?, you ask, while nailing

your blue gaze into mine.

What is poetry ? You ask it ?

Poetry... that's you.

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima XXIII

(To her. I don't know...)

For a glance, the Earth,

for a smile, the Heavens,

for a kiss... I don't know

what  I would give you for a kiss !

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima XXIV

Two red tongues of fire

entwined to the same trunk

they draw near and, when they kiss,

they are one flame;



two notes that the hand

plays on the lute at the same time,

they meet in the air

and harmoniously embrace;



two waves that together

come to die on a beach

and when they break are crowned

by a plume of silver;



two banks of mist

rising from the lake

when they meet up there in the sky

they become one white cloud;


two ideas that are shaped together;

two kisses that mingle together;

two echoes that resound as one:

these are our two souls.

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima XXX

Tears were welling into her eyes,

Words of forgiveness were coming to my lips;

Pride spoke and she dried her tears

And those words went unspoken.

I go one way, she goes another;

but, when I think of our mutual love,

I still say :  - Why didn't I  speak that day ?

And she:   - Why didn't I cry ? 

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved ©1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima LIII

    The black swallows will return

to nest on your balcony,

and with their wings they will knock

    playfully at its windows.

    But those who slowed down in their flight

to contemplate your beauty and my happiness,

those who learnt our names...

    those....will not return!

    The luscious honeysuckle will again

climb the walls of your garden,

and, even more beautiful in the afternoon,

    its flowers will bloom again.

    But those flowers adorned by dew -

drops we watched to tremble

and fall, as if they were the day's tears...

    those... will not return!

    Ardent words of love will echo again

in your ears,

your heart from its deep slumber

    will perhaps awaken.

    Mute, lost in thought and kneeling in worship

as if by the altar of a God,

that is how I loved you...; don't deceive yourself,

    nobody will love you so!

Top / Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rima LVI

Today like yesterday, tomorrow just like today,

                                    always the same !

A grey sky, an eternal horizon

                                    and to walk....., to walk.

The heart moves ryhthmically, like a stupid

                                    machine.

The brain's listless intelligence

                                    dozes in a corner.

The soul, longs for paradise,

                                    a quest without faith,

tiredness with no aim, wave that moves,

                                    knowing not why.

A monotone voice sings incessantly

                                    the same song,

a monotone drop constantly falls

                                    and keeps falling, endlessly.

Thus the days go by

                    one running after the other;

today just like yesterday...., and all

                    with no joy nor pain.

Ah, sometimes I longingly recall

                    past woes !

Suffering is bitter, but at least

                    to suffer is to live !

Top/Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti  atotos@wol.es

Rima LXIII

Memories of  past days

like a swarm of irate bees

come out of a dark corner

to haunt me.

I want to drive them away. Vain effort !

They surround me, they harrass me,

and, one by one, they thrust in me

the sharp sting that inflames the soul.

Top/Arriba

Translation: All Rights Reserved © 1999 Guia K. Monti atotos@wol.es

Rimas I - XI

XII - XXIX

XXX - XL

XLI - LI

LII - LXV

LXVI - LXXV

LXXVI - LXXXVII

Resources  Recursos: All things Bécquer - Todo sobre Bécquer

All Rights Reserved © 1997- 2007 Guia K. Monti

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