The Poisoned Cup, by Jose Marti (1895)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
my own translation from Spanish of a love poem by the most famous poet from Cuba, died 1895.

Submitted: July 15, 2008

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Submitted: July 15, 2008



From the touch, lady, of your white
and naked hand in the brilliant celebration
with my faithful heart attempted in vain
to extinguish the echoes of the orchestra!

Of the waltz devastating the impure note
That in her arms of flame suspended
took you to the heart without cure,
Repeated lovingly in my ears.

And whichever note vague and murmured
Gives the audacious soul the beautiful land,
Pretend the somber spirit
Tenuous change of that note.

Listen incessantly! At the brightness, blindingly,
As I turn I watched vaguely
To move slowly its wings of fire
and my forehead tends anxiously to frown.

Oh! my tremulous good hand will know
To the air steal the winged boiling note
and, with art of sweet witchcraft,
Hanging rosebays to the ardent cup,

In my thirsty arms she fainted
Wears, lady, and a killing perfume:
But I hurry the poisoned cup
And with me the love that consumes me ends.

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