Report

- Poem by Luis Lloréns Torres, translated by Carmen Pantoja

This poem by one of Puerto Rico’s best-loved poets was sent to us by Dr. Carmen Pantoja, a member of the Department of Physics at the University of Puerto Rico.  Dr. Pantoja also sent us her own English translation of the poem.

Luis Lloréns Torres was born in Juana Díaz, Puerto Rico, on May 14, 1876.  He was active in politics in addition to being a prolific writer.  He is considered a symbol of Puerto Rican poetry because in his works he develops themes related to the customs and traditions of the island.  His books include “Al Pie de la Alhambra,” “Sonetos Sinfónicos,” “Voces de la Campana Mayor” and “Alturas de America.”..He died in San Juan on June 16, 1944.

 

La Luna Durmió Conmigo
- Luis Llorens Torres

Esta noche la luna no quiere que yo duerma.
Esta noche la luna saltó por la ventana.
Y, novia que se quita su ropa de azahares,
toda ella desnuda, se ha metido en mi cama.

Viene de lejos, viene de detrás de las nubes,
oreada de sol y plateada de agua.
Viene que huele a besos: quizá, esta misma noche,
la enamoró el lucero galán de la mañana.

Viene que sabe a selva: tal vez, en el camino,
la curva de su cola rozó con la montaña.
Viene recién bañada: acaso, bajo el bosque,
al vadear el arroyo, se bañó en la cascada.

Viene a dormir conmigo, a que la goce y bese,
y a cantar la mentira de que a mi sólo me ama.
Y como yo, al oírla, por vengarme, le digo
"mi amor es como el tuyo", ella se ha puesto pálida.

Ella se ha puesto pálida, y al besarme la boca,
me ilumina las sienes el temblor de sus lágrimas.
Ahora ya sé que ella, la que en suntuosas noches
da su cuerpo desnudo, a mi me ha dado el alma.

 

The Moon Slept With Me
By Luis Lloréns Torres

The Moon does not want me to sleep tonight.
The Moon jumped through the window tonight.
And, bride that takes off her clothes of orange blossoms,
gets into my bed all of her naked.

She comes from far away, she comes from behind the clouds,
goldish by the Sun and silvery by the water.
She comes and smells of kisses: perhaps on this same night
the gallant morning star tried to win her love.

She comes with a taste of forest: perhaps along the way
the curve of her tail touched the mountain.
She comes freshly bathed: perhaps under the forest,
as she waded in the river, she bathed in the waterfall.

She comes to sleep with me, so I can enjoy her and kiss her,
and to sing the lie that she only loves me.
And since when I heard her, in revenge, I tell her
“my love is like yours,” she has turned pale.

She has turned pale, and when she kisses my mouth,
she illuminates my temples with the trembling of her tears.
Now I know that she, the one that on lavish nights
gives me her naked body, has given me my soul.

(English translation by Carmen Pantoja)

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