Gaita galaica, que sabes cantar
lo que profundo y dulce nos es.
Dices de amor, y dices después
de un amargor como el de la mar.
Canta. Es el tiempo. Haremos danzar
al fino verso de rítmicos pies.
Ya nos lo dijo el Eclesiastes:
tiempo hay de todo; hay tiempo para amar;
tiempo de ganar, tiempo de perder,
tiempo de plantar, tiempo de coger,
tiempo de llorar, tiempo de reír,
tiempo de rasgar, tiempo de coser,
tiempo de esparcir y de recoger,
tiempo de nacer, tiempo de morir….
English Translation
Bagpipes of Spain
Bagpipes of Spain, ye that can sing
That which is sweetest to us in the Spring!
You first sing of gladness and then sing of pain
As deep and as bitter as the billowed main.
Sing. 'Tis the season! As glad as the rain
My verses shall trip ye a jig or a fling.
Ecclesiastes said it again and again,
All things have their season, O bagpipes of Spain!-
A season to plant, a season to reap:
A season to sew, a season to tear;
A season to laugh, a season to weep;
Seasons for to hope and for to despair;
A season to love, a season to mate;
A season of birth, a season of Fate….
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Comments1Eh, honestly, I don't think Ruben Dario's work here is his best. Usually I'm big fan, but this poem doesn't do it for me. The whole repeated 'seasons' thing like 'a time to love, a time to mate', etcetera, just feels overused, yknow? It's like I already heard it before. The imagery wasn’t bad though when he talks about ‘as deep and as bitter as the billowed main.’ Always admired the way Ruben puts words together, but it was kinda meh for me in this one. Not his best, but not completely terrible either. Just okay I guess.