A keresés eredménye

To the moon

You, guiding your car through the night,
Saw its beautifully changing shadows,
Which in between clouds -that you silently roll up-
Spark beautifully
 
For my soul to bless and love you,
Cover your importunate lamp...
When my venture is eclipsed, I cry,
Don't go to sleep, moon!
 
You witnessed my hours of pleasure,
Run away and don't cast light on my deep sorrow
Or on what's left of these dead hopes
Shine your light quietly.
 
But you don't listen! To pain or cries
You keep marching majestically and slowly,
Never fearing the one who makes me bend the knee,
A severe storm.
 
Always feeling fatefully free,
Nothing troubles your sublime calmness
As passionately yoked to a harness,
My soul shatters.
 
If a dull cloud is jealous of your light
For a brief moment, its sparks guards
To throw them at your preeminent throne
Fly, zephyr, fly
 
Fly and again your placid front
shows off, and so does the silvery extension of the sky
Nobody! Oh! dissipates from my poor life
Any shadows of gloom!
 
Have enough, then, much superior fate,
With your beauty that makes the troubadour swell,
On the fields and the striped flowers
It pours pearls.
 
But make no insensitive offenses to a chest
That finds no consolation
When my venture is eclipsed, I cry,
Don't go to sleep, moon!
 

To the Stars

Silence reigns: whilst they glow,
lights of love, stars so pure,
by the blissful night beautiful lamps
embroider with gold her mourning cloak.
 
Pleasure sleeps and masks my sorrow
and my complaints break the silence,
the echos returning in unison with them,
from nocturnal birds, the sinister song.
 
Stars, whose modest and pure light
replicates from the sea a bluish mirror,
if bitterness moves you to compassion.
 
Out of intense pain is why I complain,
Why, so as to brighten my dark night,
do you not have, oh, even a pale reflection!?
 

To him

There is no longer a bond