Poesia kaiera
Poesia kaiera
William Butler Yeats
itzulpena: Juan Kruz Igerabide
2022, poesia
64 orrialde
978-84-17051-86-0
William Butler Yeats
1865-1939
 
Poesia kaiera
William Butler Yeats
itzulpena: Juan Kruz Igerabide
2022, poesia
64 orrialde
978-84-17051-86-0
aurkibidea
 

 

Coole-ko beltxarga basak

 

Zuhaitzak udazkeneko eder betean daude,

basoko bidezidorrak idor,

urriko arginabarrean putzuak

zeru barea ispilatzen du,

ura harri artean mukuru

eta ur-azalean berrogeita hemeretzi beltxarga.

 

Hemeretzi udazken etorriak zaizkit gainera

beltxargak lehen aldiz zenbatu nituenetik;

kontaketa amaitu aurretik,

bat-batean hegaldatzen ikusi nituen,

eta inguruka, biribilketa etenez, sakabanatzen,

hego-hotsen artean.

 

Izaki liluragarri horiei begira egon naiz,

eta orain bihotza saminez beterik daukat;

dena aldatu da lehen aldiz urertz honetan

ilunabarrean nire buruaren gainetik zebilen

hegoen txilin-hotsari adi egon nintzenetik.

 

Nekagabe astintzen dituzte oraindik ere erreka

hotz abegitsuak, maitalea maitalearekin,

edo airean zehar hegan ibiltzen dira;

haien bihotza ez da zahartzen,

limurkeriaz edo grinaz beterik

berekin baitaramate edonora doazelarik ere.

 

Orain halere ur geldian igeri doaz,

misteriotsu, zoragarri;

zer kanabera artean egingo ote dute habia,

zer urmael edo aintzira ertzetan

gozatuko ote dituzte gizakien begiak,

nik egunen batean neureak irekitzean

joanak direla ikusten dudanean?

 

The Wild Swans at Coole

The trees are in their autumn beauty, / The woodland paths are dry, / Under the October twilight the water / Mirrors a still sky; / Upon the brimming water among the stones / Are nine-and-fifty swans. // The nineteenth autumn has come upon me / Since I first made my count; / saw, before I had well finished, / All suddenly mount / And scatter wheeling in great broken rings / Upon their clamorous wings. // I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, / And now my heart is sore. / All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight, / The first time on this shore, / The bell-beat of their wings above my head, / Trod with a lighter tread. // Unwearied still, lover by lover, / They paddle in the cold / Companionable streams or climb the air; / Their hearts have not grown old; / Passion or conquest, wander where they will, / Attend upon them still. // But now they drift on the still water, / Mysterious, beautiful; / Among what rushes will they build, / By what lake’s edge or pool / Delight men’s eyes when I awake some day / To find they have flown away?