Black Shadow
By Rosalía de Castro
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
When I think you've passed me over
Once again you rise and haunt me,
Overpowering black shadow
Prowling round my bed to taunt me.
When again I dream you've vanished,
In the bare sun you astound me.
You're the shine of stars above me.
You're the howl of wind around me.
If they sing, it is you singing.
If they mourn, it is you mourning.
You're the murmur of the river
And the evening and the morning.
You are all and all becomes you,
All about me, leaving never,
Living in me, living for me,
Shadow over me forever.
The Original
Negra Sombra
Cando penso que te fuches,
Negra sombra que m’asombras,
Ô pe d’os meus cabezales
Tornas facéndome mofa.
Cando maxino qu’és ida
N’ò mesmo sol te m’amostras,
Y eres á estrela que brila,
Y eres ò vento que zoa.
Si cantan, ês ti que cantas;
Si choran, ês ti que choras,
Y ês ò marmurio d’o rio
Y ês á noite y és á aurora.
En todo estás e ti ès todo,
Pra min y en min mesmo moras,
Nin m’abandonarás nunca,
Sombra que sempre m’asombras
By Rosalía de Castro
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
When I think you've passed me over
Once again you rise and haunt me,
Overpowering black shadow
Prowling round my bed to taunt me.
When again I dream you've vanished,
In the bare sun you astound me.
You're the shine of stars above me.
You're the howl of wind around me.
If they sing, it is you singing.
If they mourn, it is you mourning.
You're the murmur of the river
And the evening and the morning.
You are all and all becomes you,
All about me, leaving never,
Living in me, living for me,
Shadow over me forever.
The Original
Negra Sombra
Cando penso que te fuches,
Negra sombra que m’asombras,
Ô pe d’os meus cabezales
Tornas facéndome mofa.
Cando maxino qu’és ida
N’ò mesmo sol te m’amostras,
Y eres á estrela que brila,
Y eres ò vento que zoa.
Si cantan, ês ti que cantas;
Si choran, ês ti que choras,
Y ês ò marmurio d’o rio
Y ês á noite y és á aurora.
En todo estás e ti ès todo,
Pra min y en min mesmo moras,
Nin m’abandonarás nunca,
Sombra que sempre m’asombras
There is an old man in Madrid who begs in the underground reciting this poem.
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