Que no t'amoïni la saviesa

«What the Thrush Said», de John Keats from blocsdelletres on Vimeo.

(Lines From A Letter To John Hamilton Reynolds, 1818)

O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind,
Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist,
And the black elm tops 'mong the freezing stars!
To thee the spring will be a harvest time.
O thou whose only book has been the light
Of supreme darkness, which thou feddest on
Night after night, when Phoebus was away!
To thee the spring shall be a triple morn.
O fret not after knowledge. I have none,
And yet my song comes native with the warmth.
O fret not after knowledge! I have none.
And yet the evening listens. He who saddens
At thought of idleness cannot be idle,
And he's awake who thinks himself asleep.

«What the Thrush Said», de John Keats. Vídeo: Josep Porcar
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EL QUE VA DIR EL TORD

(trad. Josep Porcar)

Oh tu, que a la cara has sentit el vent hivernal,
que als ulls has guardat núvols de neu entre boires
i oms de capells negres entre estels gebrats,
per a tu la primavera serà temps d'esplet.
Oh tu, que per llibre has tingut només la llum
d'una tenebra extrema que et nodria
nit rere nit, quan Febus no hi era,
per a tu la primavera serà un triple trenc d'albes.
Que no t'amoïni la saviesa —jo no en tinc gens,
i tanmateix el meu cant creix d'arrel amb passió.
Que no t'amoïni la saviesa —jo no en tinc gens,
i tanmateix la Tarda escolta. Qui s'entristeix
pensant en la desgana no pot estar desganat,
i resta despert qui es creu adormit.