Archive for June 19th, 2021

Saturday, 19 June 2021

A Window by Jorge Guillén Álvarez

The sky dreams clouds for the real world
with matter enamored of light and space.
Today dunes scatter over a reef,
sands with marine waves that are snows.
So many chance crossings, by fanciful caprice,
there in plain view with an irresistible
smiling reality. I dwell on the edges
of solid transparent depths.
The air is enclosing, displaying, enhancing
the leaves on the branch, the branches on the trunk,
walls, eaves, corners, pillars
Calm proof of the evening,
requiring a window’s tranquil vision.
Details chime with their surroundings:
smooth pebbles, there a fence, then a wire.
Every minute finds its own aureole,
or is it fancy dreaming this glass?
I am like my window. I marvel at the air.
Beauty so limpid, now so in accord,
between the sun and the mind! There are polished words,
but I would like to know as the June air knows.
The poplar’s stirring makes a visible breeze,
in a circle of peace the evening encloses me,
and a soaring sky adapts to my horizon.

From: Guillén, Jorge and Franzen, Cola (transl.), Horses in the Air and Other Poems, 1999, City Lights Books: San Francisco, p. 5.

Date: 1928 (original in Spanish); 1999 (translation in English)

By: Jorge Guillén Álvarez (1893-1984)

Translated by: Cola Franzen (1923-2018)