Según los psicólogos, somos todos ganadores en el juego de la vida. Bueno, más de veinticuatro horas después de la victoria de los Bulldogs, estes seguidores todavía están ganando. Soñan con la cerveza más grande y más fría del mundo.
¡Qué dulce es la memoria, cómo duele la cabeza!
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¡Cómo dulce es la memoria, cómo se duele la cabeza! ??
Reminds me of the aftermath of youth - i.e. the rest of one's life... Oh Lord, where's your Holy Alka Selzer?
How sweet the memory, how sore the head. Rough translation from the Spanish (and from experience). Courtesy of the Coogee Tavern Institute of Lubricated Linguistics.
En tus ojos de luto comienza el país del sueño.
You mean Pablo was queer for the Bulldogs? God knows he was queer for Stalin.
But seriously. I've poked around in Neruda every now and then, attracted by his reputation. But so far I haven't found anything that excites or moves me.
By contrast last night I started to understand why Antonio Machado is revered. I was reading a few of his wonderful short poems with parallel English text. They seem so fresh and true, so many years later. Whereas Neruda seems to me a limp exercise in style. Maybe I just haven't met the right poem.
In fact, that was Tagore translated by Neruda. From his megapoem about quaint things such as love in the garden, and other Moghul-picturely delights.
Machado I've always liked.
Yes, fresh is the word I would use too. I was just having a look at Neruda's Centaine d'Amour (in French). Girls still like it. It must be a chick thing - like Sleepless in Seattle.
Goodnight sweet prince ...
Has My Heart Gone To Sleep?
Has my heart gone to sleep?
Have the beehives of my dreams
stopped working, the waterwheel
of the mind run dry,
scoops turning empty,
only shadow inside?
No, my heart is not asleep.
It is awake, wide awake.
Not asleep, not dreaming—
its eyes are opened wide
watching distant signals, listening
on the rim of vast silence.
- Machado
Gracias Jorge, seguidor fiel de Machado. Y gracias Mox. Creo que lo que quería decir es un poco más claro ahora.
Gracias, Mox y Bernardito. I'm not sure if I'm a winner, but you are forcing me to read Spanish - which is a good thing.
Everyone's a winner, baby, that's the truth. Hot Chocolate said it, Jorge.
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