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P.B.Shelley

"Elegía a la muerte de John Keats” XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLIII.

 

 

XXXIX

Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep,

He hath awaken'd from the dream of life;

'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep

With phantoms an unprofitable strife,

And in mad trance, strike with our spirit's knife

Invulnerable nothings. We decay

Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief

Convulse us and consume us day by day,

And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.

 

XL

He has outsoar'd the shadow of our night;

Envy and calumny and hate and pain,

And that unrest which men miscall delight,

Can touch him not and torture not again;

From the contagion of the world's slow stain

He is secure, and now can never mourn

A heart grown cold, a head grown gray in vain;

Nor, when the spirit's self has ceas'd to burn,

With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.

 

 

XLI

He lives, he wakes--'tis Death is dead, not he;

Mourn not for Adonais. Thou young Dawn,

Turn all thy dew to splendour, for from thee

The spirit thou lamentest is not gone;

Ye caverns and ye forests, cease to moan!

Cease, ye faint flowers and fountains, and thou Air,

Which like a mourning veil thy scarf hadst thrown

O'er the abandon'd Earth, now leave it bare

Even to the joyous stars which smile on its despair!

 

XLII

He is made one with Nature: there is heard

His voice in all her music, from the moan

Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird;

He is a presence to be felt and known

In darkness and in light, from herb and stone,

Spreading itself where'er that Power may move

Which has withdrawn his being to its own;

Which wields the world with never-wearied love,

Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.

 

XLIII

He is a portion of the loveliness

Which once he made more lovely: he doth bear

His part, while the one Spirit's plastic stress

Sweeps through the dull dense world, compelling there

All new successions to the forms they wear;

Torturing th' unwilling dross that checks its flight

To its own likeness, as each mass may bear;

And bursting in its beauty and its might

From trees and beasts and men into the Heaven's light.

Callad, que no está muerto ni dormido;

 

XXXIX

 

Callad, que no está muerto ni dormido;

despertó ya del sueño de la vida.

Perdidos en visiones tempestuosas

y armados contra espectros sostenemos

contienda estéril y en delirio loco

el puñal del espíritu clavamos

en el vacío invulnerable. Si,

cruel despojos sepultos decaemos,

el temor y la angustia día a día

nos crispan y consumen, y esperanzas

friolentas cual gusanos hormiguean

en la entraña del barro que vivimos.

 

XL

Ascendió más allá de las tinieblas

de nuestra noche; envidia ni calumnia,

odio, dolor, ni esta inquietud que el hombre

llama placer le tocan ni le hieren;

se libró del contagio de esta lenta

mancha del mundo, y no podrá ya nunca

gemir en vano cuando el tiempo torne

helado el corazón, gris la cabeza,

ni al dejar de arder el alma misma

llenarán sus cenizas sin fulgor.

urna desamparada por el llanto.

 

XLI

Vive, vela. No lloréis por Adonais.

La muerte murió, no él. Tú, joven

amanecer, enciende tu rocío,

no se ha ido el espíritu que lloras;

vosotras, grutas, selvas, no gimáis,

ni vosotras, flores y fuentes lánguidas.

Y tú, aire, que extiendes como un velo

de dolor tu cendal sobre la tierra

desolada, desnúdala hasta el alto

fulgor en que sonríen los alegres

 

XLIII

Parte es de la belleza que otros días

hizo más bella; está con el espíritu

cuya potencia plástica recorre

la entraña del espeso mundo inerte

y crea desde allí todas las formas

que revisten las nuevas sucesiones,

y tortura a la escoria en rebeldía

que se resiste al vuelo que la encumbra

a su alta identidad, según la masa

la comparte, y estalla esplendorosa

en todo su vigor y su belleza

desde el árbol, las bestias y los hombres

hasta la luz del cielo

 

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