Francesca

FRANCESCA

Salías de la noche
y había flores en tus manos.
Saldrás ahora de entre las gentes,
de un torbellino de cháchara a tu costa.

Yo, que te he visto entre los elementos,
me disgusté cuando usaron tu nombre
en ambientes vulgares. 
Olas frescas me bañaran la mente,
y se arrugara el mundo como una hoja,
o como a la simiente de vilano que arrebata el viento
para poderte así encontrar de nuevo
sola.

____________________
FRANCESCA
You came in out of the night
And there were flowers in your hands,
Now you will come out of a confusion of people,
Out of a turmoil of speech about you.

I who have seen you amid the primal things
Was angry when they spoke your name
In ordinary places.
I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind,
And that the world should dry as a dead leaf,
Or as a dandelion seed-pod and be swept away,
So that I might find you again,
Alone.


Ezra Pound, Exultations (1909). En EP, Poems & Translations, edited by Richard Sieburth, The Library of America, Nueva York, 2003, pág. 117.