Noté, al incorporarme, Húmeda la almohada, Y por primera vez sentí, al notarlo, De un amargo placer henchirse el alma.
Triste cosa es el sueño Que llanto nos arranca; Mas tengo en mi tristeza una alegría... ¡Sé que aún me quedan lágrimas!
[Footnote 1: Each stanza of this poem is composed of two heptasyllabic verses followed (except in the case of the third stanza which ends in a heptasyllabic verse) by two hendecasyllabic verses. The even verses have the same assonance throughout. Notice the _esdrújulo_ ending the poem.
The thought in the poem recalls that of Heine's _Ich hab' im Traum geweinet_. Becquer's verses are less musical, but the sentiment expressed by them is less artificial, and gives evidence of more real bitterness of heart.
I wept while I was dreaming That thou didst buried lie; I woke, and with my weeping My cheeks were not yet dry.
I wept while I was dreaming That thou hadst gone from me; I woke, and still kept weeping Full long and bitterly.
I wept while I was dreaming That thou didst love me well; I woke, and--woe is me, love-- My tears are flowing still.
_Lyrical Intermezzo, no. 59, translated by Chas. G. Leland._]
Al brillar un relámpago[2] nacemos, Y aún dura su fulgor, cuando morimos: ¡Tan corto es el vivir![3] La gloria y el amor tras que corremos, Sombras de un sueño son que perseguimos: ¡Despertar es morir!
[Footnote 1: Each stanza of this poem is composed of two hendecasyllabic verses of the first class, followed by a heptasyllabic _verso agudo_. The rhyme scheme of the poem is a, b, c, a, b, c.]
[Footnote 2: Al brillar un relampago = 'At a lightning's flash'; that is to say, at the first gleam from a flash of lightning.
[Footnote 3: Tan corto es el vivir. The brevity of human life is naturally enough a favorite theme with poets. Compare--
A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste Of BEING from the Well amid the Waste-- And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reached The NOTHING it set out from-- Oh, make haste!
_The Rubáiyát of Omay Khayyám, 48th quatrain, Edward Fitzgerald's translation._]
Cerraron sus ojos Que aún tenía abiertos; Taparon su cara Con un blanco lienzo: Y unos sollozando, Otros en silencio, De la triste alcoba Todos se salieron.
La luz, que en un vaso, Ardía en el suelo, Al muro arrojaba La sombra del lecho; Y entre aquella sombra Veíase á intervalos, Dibujarse rígida La forma del cuerpo.