Francisco de la Torre

Soneto

Bella es mi Ninfa, si los lazos de oro
al apacible viento desordena;
bella, si de sus ojos enajena
el altivo desdén, que siempre lloro.

Bella, si con la luz que sola adoro
la tempestad del viento y mar serena;
bella, si a la dureza de mi pena
vuelue las gracias del celeste coro.

Bella si mansa, bella si terrible;
bella si cruda, bella esquiva, y bella
si vuelue grave aquella luz del cielo,

cuya beldad humana y apacible
ni si puede saber lo que es sin vella,
ni vista entenderá lo que es el suelo.



Sonnet

My nymph is lovely, if with golden hair,
she brings disorder to the placid wind;
lovely, if with her eyes she can convey
haughty disdain, which I forever mourn.

Lovely, if with the one light I adore
she calms the tempest of the wind and sea;
lovely, if the harshness of my grief
into celestial music she transforms.

Lovely if tame, lovely if she is rude;
lovely if cruel, and coy, and lovely too
if she turns dark the light from heaven's sky,

whose placid and so human loveliness
one cannot know without seeing her first,
nor, once seen, can by earth be satisfied. 

                     (©Alix Ingber, 1995)



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E-mail your comments and questions to:

Alix Ingber
Professor of Spanish
Sweet Briar College

ingber@sbc.edu



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