UNA
MARIPOSA
(Nymphalis
antiopa)
Vladimir Nabokov
Aquí se
abrió de par en par: su negro afelpado
con
cálidos tintes de ciruela madura; y a través de este vivo terciopelo
deliciosamente
brilla una fila de granos, del azul de la flor de aciano,
a lo largo
de una orla circular, amarilla cual el centeno cimbreante.
Se ha
posado en un tronco, y sus alas tiernas y dentadas respiran,
ora
apretándose contra la corteza, ora volviéndose hacia los rayos del sol...
Oh, qué
exultación, qué divinamente titilan! Uno diría:
es una
noche de ojos azules enmarcada por dos albas de oro claro.
Te
saludo, oh, te saludo, ensueño de norteños abedulares!
Ilusión
y risa, amor de mi eterna juventud.
Sí, te
reconoceré en un serafín en el asombroso encuentro,
reconoceré
tus alas, su sacrosanto diseño.
Traducción de Christian T. Arjona
English original:
Velvety-black, with a warm tint of ripe plum,
here it opened wide; through this live velvet
delightfully gleams a row of cornflower-azure grains,
along a circular fringe, yellow as the rippling rye.
It has perched on a trunk, and its jagged tender wings breathe,
now pressing themselves to bark, now turning toward the rays...
Oh, how they exult, how divinely they shimmer! One would say:
a blue-eyed night is framed by two pale-yellow dawns.
Greetings, oh greetings, reverie of a northern birch grove!
Thrill, and laughter, and love of my eternal youth.
Yes, I'll recognize you in a Seraph at the wondrous meeting,
I'll recognize your wings, their sacrosanct design.
V. Nabokov
From: Nabokov's Butterflies, Beacon Press, Boston, 2000.
English original:
Velvety-black, with a warm tint of ripe plum,
here it opened wide; through this live velvet
delightfully gleams a row of cornflower-azure grains,
along a circular fringe, yellow as the rippling rye.
It has perched on a trunk, and its jagged tender wings breathe,
now pressing themselves to bark, now turning toward the rays...
Oh, how they exult, how divinely they shimmer! One would say:
a blue-eyed night is framed by two pale-yellow dawns.
Greetings, oh greetings, reverie of a northern birch grove!
Thrill, and laughter, and love of my eternal youth.
Yes, I'll recognize you in a Seraph at the wondrous meeting,
I'll recognize your wings, their sacrosanct design.
V. Nabokov
From: Nabokov's Butterflies, Beacon Press, Boston, 2000.
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