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Last Night/Is My Soul
Asleep?
Asleep?
Last night as I was sleeping
I dreamt a marvelous illusion that there was a spring breaking out in my
heart.
I said, "Along what secret aqueduct are you coming to me Oh water,
water of a new life that I have never drunk." Last night as I was
sleeping I dreamt a marvelous illusion that there was a beehive here in my
heart. And the golden bees were making white combs
and sweet honey from my
old failures. Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a marvelous
illusion that there was a fiery sun here in my heart. It was fiery because
it gave warmth as if from a hearth And it was sun because it gave light and
brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a
marvelous illusion that there was God here in my heart.
I dreamt a marvelous illusion that there was a spring breaking out in my
heart.
I said, "Along what secret aqueduct are you coming to me Oh water,
water of a new life that I have never drunk." Last night as I was
sleeping I dreamt a marvelous illusion that there was a beehive here in my
heart. And the golden bees were making white combs
and sweet honey from my
old failures. Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a marvelous
illusion that there was a fiery sun here in my heart. It was fiery because
it gave warmth as if from a hearth And it was sun because it gave light and
brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a
marvelous illusion that there was God here in my heart.
God, is my soul
asleep? Have those beehives who labor by night stopped, and the water
wheel of thought, is it dry? The cup's empty, wheeling out carrying only
shadows? No! My soul is not asleep! My soul is not asleep! It
neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its clear eyes open, far off things,
and listens, and listens
at the shores of the great silence. It listens at
the shores of the great silence.
~ Antonio Machado ~
asleep? Have those beehives who labor by night stopped, and the water
wheel of thought, is it dry? The cup's empty, wheeling out carrying only
shadows? No! My soul is not asleep! My soul is not asleep! It
neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its clear eyes open, far off things,
and listens, and listens
at the shores of the great silence. It listens at
the shores of the great silence.
~ Antonio Machado ~
(The Winged Energy of
Delight, translations by Robert Bly)
Delight, translations by Robert Bly)
(A group (Yahoo) member, Roger Cramer,
kindly and politely pointed out to me that I mistakenly combined two adjacent
poems. However, they seem to fit together and I've left them
combined.)
kindly and politely pointed out to me that I mistakenly combined two adjacent
poems. However, they seem to fit together and I've left them
combined.)
Web archive of Panhala postings: www.panhala.net/Archive/Index.html
Antonio Cipriano José María y Francisco de Santa Ana Machado y Ruiz, known as Antonio Machado (26 July 1875 – 22 February 1939) was a Spanish poet and one of the leading figures of the Spanish literary movement known as the Generation of '98.
