Splendor in the grass

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Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
And let the young Lambs bound
As to the tabor's sound!
We in thought will join your throng,
Ye that pipe and ye that play,
Ye that through your hearts to-day
Feel the gladness of the May!
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.

William Wordsworth,
"ODE ON INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD."
Click here to read the whole ode.


Two of the main scenes of Elia Kazan's film Splendour in the grass, the title comes from Wordsworth's Ode on Inmortality. Both scenes explain how the same text can have different meanings depending on the reader -even if that reader is supposed to be the same.

En español.

Nada puede devolvernos la hora
de esplendor en la hierba y gloria en la flor,
mas no hemos de sufrir: encontraremos
fuerza en lo que dejamos atrás,
en la primera simpatía
que habiendo sido habrá de ser por siempre...

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth.


NARCISOS

Erraba solo como nube
que alta flota sobre colinas, valles,
y vi de pronto multitud
de narcisos de oro,
junto al lago y bajo los àrboles,
vibrando, danzando en la brisa.

Continuos como las estrellas
que brillan en la Via Làctea,
en una linea interminable
junto a los màrgenes del agua,
de un solo golpe vi diez mil,
moviendo alegres sus cabezas.

Danzaban ondas, pero aquellos
sobrepasábanlas en brío,
cómo no ser allí feliz
en tan jocunda compañía,
miré y miré, pero no vi
qué gozo aquello trajo a mí:

pues a menudo, cuando yago
despreocupado y pensativo,
los vuelvo a ver a ojos cerrados
en la bendita soledad,
y llenan ya mi corazón
que danza al son de los narcisos.

(Version libre de J. Aguirre O.)