Who Knows What Is Going On
Who knows what is going on on the other side of each hour?
How many times the sunrise was
there, behind a mountain!
How many times the brilliant cloud piling up far off
was already a golden body full of thunder!
This rose was poison;
That sword gave life.
I was thinking of a flowery meadow
at the end of a road,
and found myself in the slough.
I was thinking of the greatness of what was human,
and found myself in the divine.
-Juan Ramón Jiménez-
Translated by Robert Bly
If you liked this poem, you might also like
“I Dreamed I Lived in Austin,” by Albert Huffstickler.
Rose photo edited from photo by Milly Sime.
Sword photo from Battling Blades.
~~~~~~~~~~~
¿Quién Sabe?
¿Quién sabe lo que pasa
del otro lado de cada hora?
¡Cuántas veces el alba estaba,
allá, tras de un monte!
¡Cuántas veces la nube brillante,
que se amontonaba a lo lejos,
era ya un cuerpo de oro lleno de trueno!
Esta rosa fue veneno;
aquella espada dio vida.
Yo pensaba en un prado florido
al final de un camino,
y me encontré en el lodazal.
Yo pensaba en lo grande de lo humano,
y me encontré en lo divino.
~~~~~~~~~~~
