He oído lo que hablaban los habladores, la fábula del principio y del fin,
Pero yo no hablo ni del principio ni del fin.
Nunca hubo más principio que ahora,
Ni más juventud ni vejez que ahora,
Ni habrá más perfección que ahora,
Ni más infierno ni cielo que ahora.
Impulso, impulso, impulso,
Siempre el impulso generador del mundo.
De la penumbra surgen iguales elementos contrarios, siempre la sustancia y el crecimiento, siempre el sexo,
Siempre un tejido de identidades, siempre lo diferente, siempre la vida que se engendra.
De nada sirve elaborar; los doctos y los ignorantes lo saben.
Conociendo la perfecta justeza y ecuanimidad de las cosas, guardo silencio cuando los otros discuten, y después me baño y me admiro.
I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end (from Song of Myself)
ResponderEliminarI have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.
Urge and urge and urge,
Always the procreant urge of the world.
Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex,
Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.
To elaborate is no avail, learned and unlearned feel that it is so.
Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well entreatied, braced in the beams,
Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical,
I and this mystery here we stand.
Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen,
That that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.
Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age,
Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself.
Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean,
Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest.
I am satisfied -- I see, dance, laugh, sing;
As the hugging and loving bedfellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread,
Leaving me baskets covered with white towels swelling the house with their plenty,
Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes,
That they turn from gazing after and down the road,
And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent,
Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?
Elena