martes, mayo 08, 2007

Tigre

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes!
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? And what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile, his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


William Blake, Songs of Experience


" Tigre, tigre, que te enciendes en luz
por los bosques de la noche
¿qué mano inmortal, qué ojo
pudo idear tu terrible simetría?
¿En qué profundidades distantes, en qué cielos ardió el fuego de tus ojos?
¿Con qué alas osó elevarse?¿Qué mano osó tomar ese fuego?

¿Y qué hombro, y qué arte
pudo tejer la nervadura de tu corazón?
Y al comenzar los latidos de tu corazón,
¿qué mano terrible? ¿Qué terribles pies?

¿Qué martillo? ¿Qué cadena?
¿En qué horno se templó tu cerebro?
¿En qué yunque? ¿Qué tremendas garras osaron sus mortales terrores dominar?

Cuando las estrellas arrojaron sus lanzas
y bañaron los cielos con sus lágrimas
¿sonrió al ver su obra?
¿Quien hizo al cordero fue quien te hizo?

Tigre, tigre, que te enciendes en luz,
por los bosques de la noche
¿qué mano inmortal, qué ojo
osó idear tu terrible simetría? "

(no aparece el traductor)

Jethro Tull - Bungle In The Jungle Lyrics





Walking through forests of palm tree apartments ---
scoff at the monkeys who live in their dark tents
down by the waterhole --- drunk every Friday ---
eating their nuts --- saving their raisins for Sunday.
Lions and tigers who wait in the shadows ---
they're fast but they're lazy, and sleep in green meadows.

Let's bungle in the jungle --- well, that's all right by me.
I'm a tiger when I want love,
but I'm a snake if we disagree.

Just say a word and the boys will be right there:
with claws at your back to send a chill through the night air.
Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?
Thunder and lightning couldn't be bolder.
I'll write on your tombstone, ``I thank you for dinner.''
This game that we animals play is a winner.

Let's bungle in the jungle --- well, that's all right by me.
I'm a tiger when I want love,
but I'm a snake if we disagree.

The rivers are full of crocodile nasties
and He who made kittens put snakes in the grass.
He's a lover of life but a player of pawns ---
yes, the King on His sunset lies waiting for dawn
to light up His Jungle
as play is resumed.
The monkeys seem willing to strike up the tune.