I died for Beauty — but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room —
He questioned softly “Why I failed”?
“For Beauty”, I replied —
“And I — for Truth — Themself are One —
We Brethren, are”, He said —
And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night —
We talked between the Rooms —
Until the Moss had reached our lips —
And covered up — our names —
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room —
He questioned softly “Why I failed”?
“For Beauty”, I replied —
“And I — for Truth — Themself are One —
We Brethren, are”, He said —
And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night —
We talked between the Rooms —
Until the Moss had reached our lips —
And covered up — our names —
Emily Dickinson
*
Morí por la Belleza — pero apenas
me encajaron en la Tumba,
metieron a Alguien que murió por la Verdad
en una pieza contigua —
¿“Por qué caíste”? preguntó en voz baja,
“Por la Belleza”, contesté —
“Y Yo — por la Verdad — Ambas son Una —
somos Hermanos”, dijo Él —
Y así, como Parientes, nos citamos de Noche —
y hablamos entre las Piezas —
hasta que el Musgo nos llegó a los labios —
y cubrió — nuestros nombres —
traducción de Álvaro Torres Ruiz
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