¿Y ha de morir contigo el mundo mago?

Antonio Machado

¿Y ha de morir contigo el mundo mago 

donde guarda el recuerdo 

los hálitos más puros de la vida, 

la blanca sombra del amor primero,

 

  la voz que fue a tu corazón, la mano 

que tú querías retener en sueños, 

y todos los amores 

que llegaron al alma, al hondo cielo?

 

  ¿Y ha de morir contigo el mundo tuyo, 

la vieja vida en orden tuyo y nuevo?

 

¿Los yunques y crisoles de tu alma 

trabajan para el polvo y para el viento?

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[And is that magical world to die with you]

Antonio Macahado

And is that magical world to die with you,

where memory goes guarding

life's purest breaths

first love's white shadow,

the voice that entered your heart, the hand

that you had wished to hold in dream,

and all things loved

that touched the soul, the depths of sky?

And is that world of yours to die with you,

the old life you renewed and set in order?

Have the anvils and crucibles of your spirit

laboured here only for dust and wind?

Translated by A. S. Kline

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Nothing
Antonio Machado


So is this place to die with us?
I mean that world where memory still holds
the breath of your early life:
the white shadow of first love,
that voice that rose and fell
with your own heart, the hand
you'd dream of closing in your own...
all those beloved burning things
that dawned on us,
lit up the inner sky?
Is this whole world to vanish when we die,
this life that we made new in our own fashion?
Have the crucibles and anvils of the soul 
been working for the dust and for the wind?

A Version by Don Paterson

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