"April love" by Ernest Christopher Dowson (1867-1900)

April Love
Ernest Christopher Dowson


We have walked in Love's land a little way,
We have learnt his lesson a little while,
And shall we not part at the end of day,
With a sigh, a smile?


A little while in the shine of the sun,
We were twined together, joined lips forgot
How the shadows fall when day is done,
And when Love is not.


We have made no vows - there will none be broke,
Our love was free as the wind on the hill,
There was no word said we need wish unspoke,
We have wrought no ill.


So shall we not part at the end of day,
Who have loved and lingered a little while,
Join lips for the last time, go our way,
With a sigh, a smile.

Amor Profanus

Ernest Christopher Dowson

Beyond the pale of memory,

In some mysterious dusky grove;

A place of shadows utterly,

Where never coos the turtle-dove,

A world forgotten of the sun:

I dreamed we met when day was done,

And marvelled at our ancient love.

Met there by chance, long kept apart,

We wandered through the darkling glades;

And that old language of the heart

We sought to speak: alas! poor shades!

Over our pallid lips had run

The waters of oblivion,

Which crown all loves of men or maids.

In vain we stammered: from afar

Our old desire shone cold and dead:

That time was distant as a star,

When eyes were bright and lips were red.

And still we went with downcast eye

And no delight in being nigh,

Poor shadows most uncomforted.

Ah, Lalage! while life is ours,

Hoard not thy beauty rose and white,

But pluck the pretty fleeing flowers

That deck our little path of light:

For all too soon we twain shall tread

The bitter pastures of the dead:

Estranged, sad spectres of the night.

Más allá de la pálida memoria,

En algún misterioso bosque oscuro;
Existe un lugar hecho de sombras,
Silencioso bajo la bóveda de árboles,

Un lugar olvidado por el sol:

He soñado que allí nos reuníamos

Para maravillarnos de nuestro antiguo amor.

Reunidos allí por casualidad, largos años habían pasado,

Hemos vagado por la espesura sombría;

Y aquel antiguo lenguaje del corazón

Intentamos en vano evocar: ¡Oh, que melodía furtiva!

Sobre nuestros pálidos labios han corrido

Las aguas del olvido,

Que corona el amor de todos los mortales.

En vano balbuceamos; desde lejos,

Nuestro viejo deseo brilló frío y muerto:

Esa vez fue lejano como una estrella,

Cuando los ojos alumbraban y los labios eran carmesí.

Sin embargo fuimos con los ojos abatidos,

Sin encontrar placer en la cercanía,

Como dos pobres sombras desconsoladas.                                    

¡Oh, Amor! Mientras la vida es nuestra,

No acumules las bellezas rosas y blancas,

Pero arranca la hermosura que huye de las flores

Para que adornen nuestro pequeño sendero de luz:

Pues pronto habremos de ahogarnos

En la amarga hierba de los muertos.

Separados, tristes espectros de la noche.

http://elespejogotico.blogspot.com/2008/09/poema-para-un-reencuentro.html

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