������ La muerte de Rub�n Dar�o
��������������� Antonio Machado
Si era toda en tu verso la armon�a
del mundo,
�d�nde fuiste, Dar�o, la armon�a a buscar?
Jardinero de Hesperia, ruise�or de los mares,
coraz�n asombrado de la m�sica astral,
�te ha llevado Dionysos de su mano al infierno
y con las nuevas rosas triunfantes volver�s?
�Te han herido buscando la so�ada Florida,
la fuente de la eterna juventud, capit�n?
Que en esta lengua madre la clara historia quede;
corazones de todas las Espa�as, llorad.
Rub�n Dar�o ha muerto en sus tierras de Oro,
esta nueva nos vino atravesando el mar.
Pongamos, espa�oles, en un severo m�rmol,
su nombre, flauta y lira, y una inscripci�n no m�s:
Nadie esta lira pulse, si no es el mismo Apolo,
nadie esta flauta suene, si no es el mismo Pan.
The Death of Rub�n Dar�o
If all the world�s harmony was in your verse,
where did you go, Dar�o, harmony to seek?
Gardener of Hesperia, nightingale of the seas,
heart at astral music awed,
Has Dionysius taken you by the hand to hell
and you�ll return with new triumphal roses?
Were you wounded seeking the dreamed of Florida,
�the fountain of eternal youth, Captain?
May the clear history stay in the mother tongue;
Hearts of all the Spains, weep.
Rub�n Dar�o has died in his golden lands,
the news reached us from across the sea.
Let us put, Spaniards, in plain marble,
his name, flute and lyre, and inscribe just this:
Let no one this lyre strum, if not Apollo himself,
let no one this flute play, if not Pan himself.
Translation: Frank Thomas Smith
Antonio Machado was perhaps the most popular poet in Spain.
