Do téjże / Jan Andrzej Morsztyn

Do téjże.

Oczy twe, nie są oczy, ale słońca jaśnie

Świecące, w których blasku każdy rozum gaśnie;

Usta twe, nie są usta, lecz koral rumiany,

Których farbą zmysł każdy zostaje związany;

Piersi twe nie są piersi, lecz z nieba surowy

Kształt, który wolą nasze zabiera w okowy;

Tak oczy, piersi, usta, rozum, zmysł i wolą,

Blaskiem, farbą i kształtem, ćmią, wiążą, niewolą.

Jan Andrzej Morsztyn

To His Mistress

Your sweet eyes are not eyes, but radiance of the sun 

Before whose dazzling light all reason is undone;

Your sweet lips are not lips, but coral, soft and red,

That binds our every sense with bonds of crimson thread.

Your sweet breasts are not breasts, but shapes divinely bright 

That capture our warm will in fetters of delight.

Thus reason, sense and will are slaves to the behests

Of light and hue and form in eyes and lips and breasts.

Jan Andrzej Morsztyn

Translated by Andrzej Morsztyn and Watson Kirkconnell

Photo by Trevor Yerbury

E l’amore guardò il tempo e rise / Luigi Pirandello

E l’amore guardò il tempo e rise,

perchè sapeva di non averne bisogno.

Finse di morire per un giorno,

e di rifiorire alla sera,

senza leggi da rispettare.

Si addormentò in un angolo di cuore

per un tempo che non esisteva.

Fuggì senza allontanarsi,

ritornò senza essere partito,

il tempo moriva e lui restava.

Luigi Pirandello

And love looked at time and laughed,

because it knew it had no need for it.

It pretended to die for a day

and to blossom again at night

with no rules to abide by.

It fell asleep in a corner of the heart

for a time that did not exist.

It fled without moving away,

returned without having left,

time was dying, and it was staying.

Luigi Pirandello

Translated by Matilda Colarossi

Y el amor miró al tiempo y se rio,

porque sabía que no lo necesitaba.

Fingió morir por un día,

y reflorecer por la noche,

sin leyes que obedecer.

Se quedó dormido en un rincón de su corazón

durante un tiempo inexistente.

Escapó sin alejarse,

regresó sin haberse ido,

el tiempo moría y él permanecía.

Luigi Pirandello

Warsaw - Liliia Photography