A Sonnet on Cervantes

^{translated by Thomas Walsh and Salomón de la Selva.}

In all my days of troubled loneliness
And fretted grief Cervantes is to me
A faithful friend, and none so true as he,
That brings me precious gifts of quietness.

All nature his, and life. Of his largesse
My dreams, that are knight-errants bold and free,
Have golden casques to crown them gloriously.
He is, for me: sigh, prayer, joyousness.

He speaks as runs a brook, so amorous
And very gentle is this Christian knight,
Ever undaunted. And I love him thus,

Beholding how the world, by fate’s design,
Reaps, from his deathless sorrow, rich delight,
And laughter from a madness so divine!

 

---

Soneto a Cervantes

Horas de pesadumbre y de tristeza
paso en mi soledad. Pero Cervantes
es buen amigo. Endulza mis instantes
ásperos, y reposa mi cabeza.

El es la vida y la naturaleza;
regala un yelmo de oro y de diamantes
a mis sueños errantes.
Es para mí: suspire, ríe y reza.

Cristiano y amoroso caballero
parla como un arroyo cristalino.
¡Así le admiro y quiero,

viendo cómo el destino
hace que regocije al mundo entero
la tristeza inmortal de ser divino!