Poesia kaiera
Poesia kaiera
Edna St. Vincent Millay
itzulpena: Ana Morales
2021, poesia
64 orrialde
978-84-17051-65-5
Edna St. Vincent Millay
1892-1950
 
 

 

Baserritarren azoka eguna

 

Polito eta lasai, polito eta lasai

Artetsu eta abil, neure erritmoan,

Hara-honaka nabil etxetik alai...

Gizonak beren hotsaz baitira herrira joan.

 

Ondo akordatzen naiz, duela aspaldi,

Nire neskato gelan zein zen gaua isila:

Leiho aurrean adi ilargi andreari,

Ohe hutsean zela haren argi hozpila.

 

Bihotzetik harago eman nion gizonari,

Goxoki errendituz bihotza emanik:

Orain jopu natzaio, herabe, barregarri,

Ohartzen ez den bati, xamurra delarik.

 

Zelan sentitzen naizen ez beza inoiz barrunta

Edo zelan, tarteka, lar ozen duen boza...

Gurdiaren gurpila entzutea karranka

Baita, kortan sartzean, nire bizipoza!

 

Atsekabea luke; ezin jakin du egundo

Zatitxo bat neurea dudala gorderik

Gurin ontzia haizatu edo belarra usaintzeko,

Bera azokan denean, edo lo datzalarik.

 

Truck-Garden Market-Day

Peaceful and slow, peaceful and slow, / Skillful and deft, in my own rhythm, / Happy about the house I go— / For the men are in town, and their noise gone with ’em. // Well I remember, long ago, / How still, in my girlish room, the night was— / Watching the moon from my window, / While cool on the empty bed her light was. // More than my heart to him I gave, / When I gave my heart in soft surrender— / Who now am the timid, laughed-at slave / Of a man unaware of this, and tender. // Never must he know how I feel, / Or how, at times, too loud his voice is— / When, just at the creak of his wagon-wheel / Cramped for the barn, my life rejoices! // He would be troubled; he could not learn / How small a part of myself I keep / To smell the meadows, or sun the churn, / When he’s at market, or while he’s asleep.