The Swan

It was a divine hour for the human race.
Before, the Swan sang only at its death.
But when the Wagnerian swan began to sing,
there was a new dawning, and a new life.

The song of the Swan is heard above the storms
of the human sea; its aria never ceases;
it dominates the hammering of old Thor,
and the trumpets hailing the sward of Argentir.

Oh Swan! Oh sacred bird!
If once white Helen,
immortal princess of Beauty's realms,
emerged all grace from Leda's sky-blue egg,
so now,

beneath the white of your wings,
the new Poetry,
here in a splendor of music and light,
conceives the pure,
eternal Helen who is the Ideal.
Ruben Dario


For One Moment, Oh Swan

For one moment, oh Swan, I will join my longings
with those of your two wings that once clasped Leda,
and you, in silk, will tell my maturing dreams,
through Castor and Pollux, of all the heavens' glory.

It is autumn now. The flute pours out its councels.
For one instant, oh Swan, in the darkening grove,
I will drink with my two lips what modesty forbids,
disdaining scruples and suspicions.

Swan, for an instant your white wings will be mine,
and the roselike heart within your glorious breast
will beat within my own with your strong blood.

Love will be happy, because of the vibrant joy
that Pan will feel as he spies from his green ambush,
and the diamantine fount will hide a rhythm.
Ruben Dario


To a Lady Combing Her Hair

In Waves of untraveled seas
a little silver boat was dividing,
guided by a candid hand
with winds of sighs and cares.

The fibers of divided fruit
scattered the prodigious abundance,
while avaricious Love was collecting them,
and locking them in a delightful prison.

This same storm-thrashed Aegean Sea,
in a merry shipwreck my heart travels,
whose dangers I adore.

And when the sails open to the winds,
there is reach realization
in the tormented waters:
a diamond reef in golden bays.

Juan de Tassis Peralta,
Count of Villamedina
Spain

Lady In Red




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