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Plácido’s Sonnet to His Mother
Despida a Mi Madre
(En La Capilla)
SI la suerte fatal que me ha cabido, | |
| Y el triste fin de mi sangrienta historia, | |
| Al salir de esta vida transitoria | |
| Deja to corazon de muerte herido; | |
| Baste de llanto: el ánimo afligido | 5 |
| Recobre su quietud; moro en la gloria, | |
| Y mi plácida lira á to memoria | |
| Lanza en la tumba su postrer sonido. | |
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| Sonido dulce, melodioso y santo, | |
| Glorioso, espiritual, puro y divino, | 10 |
| Inocente, espontáneo como el llanto | |
| Que vertiera al nacer: ya el cuello inclino! | |
| Ya de la religion me cubre el manto! | |
| Adios, mi madre! adios—El Peligrino. | |
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Farewell to My Mother
(In the Chapel)
THE APPOINTED lot has come upon me, mother, | 15 |
| The mournful ending of my years of strife, | |
| This changing world I leave, and to another | |
| In blood and terror goes my spirit’s life. | |
| But thou, grief-smitten, cease thy mortal weeping | |
| And let thy soul her wonted peace regain; | 20 |
| I fall for right, and thoughts of thee are sweeping | |
| Across my lyre to wake its dying strains. | |
| A strain of joy and gladness, free, unfailing | |
| All glorious and holy, pure, divine, | |
| And innocent, unconscious as the wailing | 25 |
| I uttered on my birth; and I resign | |
| Even now, my life, even now descending slowly, | |
| Faith’s mantle folds me to my slumbers holy. | |
Mother, farewell! God keep thee—and forever!
Translated by William Cullen Bryant. | |
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Plácido’s Farewell to His Mother
(Written in the Chapel of the Hospital de Santa Cristina on the Night Before His Execution)
IF the unfortunate fate engulfing me, | 30 |
| The ending of my history of grief, | |
| The closing of my span of years so brief, | |
| Mother, should wake a single pang in thee, | |
| Weep not. No saddening thought to me devote; | |
| I calmly go to a death that is glory-filled, | 35 |
| My lyre before it is forever stilled | |
| Breathes out to thee its last and dying note. | |
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| A note scarce more than a burden-easing sigh, | |
| Tender and sacred, innocent, sincere— | |
| Spontaneous and instinctive as the cry | 40 |
| I gave at birth-And now the hour is here— | |
| O God, thy mantle of mercy o’er my sins! | |
Mother, farewell! The pilgrimage begins.
Translated by James Weldon Johnson. | |
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