Pues era un grave y ceñudo consejero,
juicioso en todo y harto viejo.
Mas esta locura rechacé y el frío
que la vejez reviste como abrigo.
Era bastante fuerte -al menos lo decían-
los jóvenes con quienes practicaba la esgrima;
mas esta locura rechacé y estoy alegre
de otra manera que me va mejor.
Me enrosqué entre los troncos de los fresnos,
he escondido mi rostro donde el roble
extiende sobre mí sus hojas y dejé
el yugo de las viejas costumbres de los hombres.
Cerca del quieto lago Mar-nan-otha
encontréme una esposa
que era un cornejo antaño.
Me hizo abandonar mis viejos usos,
aplacó mi rencor de consejero
mandándome loar
tan solo al viento que entre las hojas suena.
Me ha hecho abandonar mis viejos usos
hasta que todos me reputan de loco;
pero he visto, y me alegra, el dolor de los hombres
pues sé que son locura, sollozos y amarguras.
¿Y yo? He apartado la locura, el pesar.
Mis lágrimas dejé dentro de una hoja de olmo
y las abandoné bajo una piedra
y ahora me llaman loco, porque aparté de mí
toda locura, abandonándola
para dejar atrás los viejos, yermos caminos de los hombres.
Porque mi desposada
es un lago del bosque
y aunque todos afirman que estoy loco
tan solo estoy contento,
muy contento, porque mi novia me ama
con un amor más dulce que el amor de mujer
que atormenta y abrasa y nos aparta.
¡Ay! Cierto es que estoy alegre
muy alegre porque la tengo a solas
y nadie nos molesta.
En otro tiempo cuando estaba entre jóvenes...
y decían que era bastante fuerte entre los jóvenes.
En otro tiempo había una mujer...
...pero me olvido... era...
...espero que no vuelva.
...No recuerdo...
Creo que me hirió un día, pero...
Eso hace mucho tiempo.
No quiero recordar ya nunca más.
Me gusta la caricia de los vientos que soplan
en los fresnos de aquí:
porque aquí estamos solos,
entre fresnos, aquí.
Personae, 1926
Ezra Pound (Hailey, EE UU, 1885-Venecia, Italia, 1972), Introducción a Ezra Pound. Antología general de textos, versiones de Carmen de Velasco y Jaime Ferrán, Barral Editores, Barcelona, 1973
La Fraisne
For I was a gaunt, grave councillor,
Being in all things wise, and very old;
But I have put aside this folly and the cold
That old age weareth for a cloak.
I was quite strong—at least they said so—
The young men at the sword-play;
But I have put aside this folly, being gay
In another fashion that more suiteth me.
I have curled mid the boles of the ash wood,
I have hidden my face where the oak
Spread his leaves over me, and the yoke
Of the old ways of men have I cast aside.
By the still pool of Mar-nan-otha
Have I found me a bride
That was a dog-wood tree some syne.
She hath called me from mine old ways;
She hath hushed my rancor of council,
Bidding me praise
Naught but the wind that flutters in the leaves.
She hath drawn me from mine old ways,
Till men say that I am mad;
But I have seen the sorrow of men, and am glad,
For I know that the wailing and bitterness are a folly.
And I? I have put aside all folly and all grief.
I wrapped my tears in an ellum leaf
And left them under a stone;
And now men call me mad because I have thrown
All folly from me, putting it aside
To leave the old barren ways of men,
Because my bride
Is a pool of the wood; and
Though all men say that I am mad
It is only that I am glad—
Very glad, for my bride hath toward me a great love
That is sweeter than the love of women
That plague and burn and drive one away.
Aie-e! ’Tis true that I am gay,
Quite gay, for I have her alone here
And no man troubleth us.
Once when I was among the young men …
And they said I was quite strong, among the young men …
Once there was a woman …
… but I forget … she was …
… I hope she will not come again.
… I do not remember …
I think she hurt me once, but …
That was very long ago.
I do not like to remember things any more.
I like one little band of winds that blow
In the ash trees here:
For we are quite alone,
Here mid the ash trees.
---
Ilustración: Femme assise dans un jardin, 1938, Pablo Picasso
Ezra Pound (Hailey, EE UU, 1885-Venecia, Italia, 1972), Introducción a Ezra Pound. Antología general de textos, versiones de Carmen de Velasco y Jaime Ferrán, Barral Editores, Barcelona, 1973
La Fraisne
For I was a gaunt, grave councillor,
Being in all things wise, and very old;
But I have put aside this folly and the cold
That old age weareth for a cloak.
I was quite strong—at least they said so—
The young men at the sword-play;
But I have put aside this folly, being gay
In another fashion that more suiteth me.
I have curled mid the boles of the ash wood,
I have hidden my face where the oak
Spread his leaves over me, and the yoke
Of the old ways of men have I cast aside.
By the still pool of Mar-nan-otha
Have I found me a bride
That was a dog-wood tree some syne.
She hath called me from mine old ways;
She hath hushed my rancor of council,
Bidding me praise
Naught but the wind that flutters in the leaves.
She hath drawn me from mine old ways,
Till men say that I am mad;
But I have seen the sorrow of men, and am glad,
For I know that the wailing and bitterness are a folly.
And I? I have put aside all folly and all grief.
I wrapped my tears in an ellum leaf
And left them under a stone;
And now men call me mad because I have thrown
All folly from me, putting it aside
To leave the old barren ways of men,
Because my bride
Is a pool of the wood; and
Though all men say that I am mad
It is only that I am glad—
Very glad, for my bride hath toward me a great love
That is sweeter than the love of women
That plague and burn and drive one away.
Aie-e! ’Tis true that I am gay,
Quite gay, for I have her alone here
And no man troubleth us.
Once when I was among the young men …
And they said I was quite strong, among the young men …
Once there was a woman …
… but I forget … she was …
… I hope she will not come again.
… I do not remember …
I think she hurt me once, but …
That was very long ago.
I do not like to remember things any more.
I like one little band of winds that blow
In the ash trees here:
For we are quite alone,
Here mid the ash trees.
---
Ilustración: Femme assise dans un jardin, 1938, Pablo Picasso
La modernidad acabó al punto con este poema. También el mundo clásico. Un paso atrás espera el hades en donde no hay abrazo. Un paso adelante, dado está el hoy desalmado. Sobre el lago de Mannanothaa ya flota el espíritu del Paráclito.
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