Pablo Neruda
| Quítame el pan, si quieres, |
| quítame el aire, pero |
| no me quites tu risa |
|
| Take the bread from me, if you want |
| take the air from me, but |
| do not take from me your laughter |
|
| No me quites la rosa, |
| la lanza que desgranas, |
| el agua que de pronto |
| estalla en tu alegría, |
| la repentina ola |
| de plata que te nace. |
|
| Do not take away the rose, |
| the lanceflower that you pluck, |
| the water that suddenly |
| bursts forth in your joy, |
| the sudden wave |
| of silver born in you. |
|
| Mi lucha es dura y vuelvo |
| con los ojos cansados |
| a veces de haber visto |
| la tierra que no cambia, |
| pero al entrar tu risa |
| sube al cielo buscándome |
| y abre para mí todas |
| las puertas de la vida. |
|
| My struggle is harsh and I come back |
| with eyes tired |
| at times from having seen |
| the unchanging earth, |
| but when your laughter enters |
| it rises to the sky seeking me |
| and it opens for me all |
| the doors of life. |
|
| Amor mío, en la hora |
| más oscura desgrana |
| tu risa, y si de pronto |
| ves que mi sangre mancha |
| las piedras de la calle, |
| ríe, porque tu risa |
| será para mis manos |
| como una espada fresca. |
|
| My love, in the darkest |
| hour your laughter |
| opens, and if suddenly |
| you see my blood staining |
| the stones of the street, |
| laugh, because your laughter |
| will be for my hands |
| like a fresh sword. |
|
| Junto al mar en otoño, |
| tu risa debe alzar |
| su cascada de espuma, |
| y en primavera, amor, |
| quiero tu risa como |
| la flor que yo esperaba, |
| la flor azul, la rosa |
| de mi patria sonora. |
|
| Next to the sea in the autumn, |
| your laughter must raise |
| its foamy cascade, |
| and in the spring, love, |
| I want your laughter like |
| the flower I was waiting for, |
| the blue flower, the rose |
| of my echoing country. |
|
| Ríete de la noche, |
| del día, de la luna, |
| ríete de las calles |
| torcidas de la isla, |
| ríete de este torpe |
| muchacho que te quiere, |
| pero cuando yo abro |
| los ojos y los cierro, |
| cuando mis pasos van, |
| cuando vuelven mis pasos, |
| niégame el pan, el aire, |
| la luz, la primavera, |
| pero tu risa nunca |
| porque me moriría. |
|
| Laugh at the night, |
| at the day, at the moon, |
| laugh at the twisted |
| streets of the island, |
| laugh at this clumsy |
| boy who loves you, |
| but when I open |
| my eyes and close them, |
| when my steps go, |
| when my steps return, |
| deny me bread, air, |
| light, spring, |
| but never your laughter |
| for I would die. |
|
- translation by Donald Walsh