by Juan Ramón Jiménez
Something so close to the soul
though still so enormously far
from the hands!
Like the light from a star,
like a voice we cannot identify
in a dream, like the galloping
of some rider far off
which we listen to, holding our breath,
our ear touching the ground,
like the sea over the telephone . . .
And life takes place
inside us, with the eternal light
of an ecstatic day
which is going on somewhere else.
It is a beautiful thing,
something true and not yet real, beautiful!
From:
Lorca and Jiménez: selected poems, Robert Bly - Beacon Press, 1997
Copyright ©:
Translated by Robert Bly
- Share this Poem:
