miércoles, 21 de mayo de 2008

The Dry Salvages














I

I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river

Is a strong brown god –sullen, untamed and intractable,

Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier;

Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce;

Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges.

The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten

By the dwellers in cities –ever, however, implacable,

Keeping his seasons and rages, destroyer, reminder

Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured, unpropitiated

By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting.

His rhythm was present in the nursery bedroom,

In the rank ailanthus of the April dooryard,

In the smell of grapes on the autumn table,

And the evening circle in the winter gaslight.


The Dry Salvages


Four Quartets

T. S. Eliot


Traducció:

Jo no entenc gaire de déus; però em sembla que el riu / es un déu fort i bru: esquerp, indòmit i intractable, / pacient fins a un cert punt, admès inicialment com a frontera, / útil i deslleial com a vehicle del comerç; / i després només un problema per al constructor de ponts. / Resolt el problema, el déu bru és oblidat / pels veïns a les ciutats –el qual, malgrat tot, conserva / implacable els seus ritmes i les seves ires, destructor; el qual recorda / als homes allò que ells prefereixen oblidar. Privat pels / adoradors de la màquina, resta a l’aguait, vigilant i esperant. / El seu ritme es nota a la cambra dels nadons, / al frondós ailant a l’entrada de l’abril, / a l’olor del raïm sobre la taula tardorenca / i a l’hivern, al cercle nocturn del llum de gas.