"Hymn to the Sun" by José de Espronceda translated by Ida Farnell

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September 29, 2024 

Hymn to the Sun

José de Espronceda
translated from the Spanish by Ida Farnell

Hail to thee Sun! Oh, list and stay thy course!
To thee in ecstasy I make my prayer,
The while my soul, aglow with fire like thine,
Uplifts her wings and boldly cleaves the air,
To pay her tribute to thy power divine.
Oh, that this voice of mine in wondrous wise,
Rending the clouds asunder.
To thee, great Sun, might rise,
Drowning with words sublime the dreaded thunder,
And, in the heavens’ blue vault,
Bidding thee in thy mighty journey halt!

Oh, that the inner flame which lights the mind
Would lend its virtue to my feeble sight,
So that no longer with thy beams made blind
Mine eager eyes I might undazzled raise.
And on thy radiant face, divinely bright,
Might even dare to rest my constant gaze!
How I have ever loved thee, glorious Sun!
A child, with wondering eyes.
My life but just begun,
How oft I longed to reach thee in the skies;
And on what rapture fed
As thy great chariot on its pathway sped!

From where the Orient rears his golden crest,
Whose borders Ocean girds with many a pearl,
E’en to the limits of the shadowy West
The dazzling hem of thy bright garment gleams,
And thou thy shining banner dost unfurl.
And bathest all the world in thy pure streams.
From thy broad brow the light of day thou sendest,
Great source of life and seat,
And of thy calm, majestic disk thou lendest
The fertilizing heat,
Amid the spheres on high
Rising triumphant in the azure sky.

Calmly thou scal’st the Zenith’s golden height,
In Heaven’s high hall enthroned supreme thou reignest,
And there with living flames and splendour dight,
Thy fiery steeds thou reinest.
From thence full speedily thy way thou takest,
Till down the steep incline
Thy rich and trailing locks of gold thou shakest
On Ocean’s heaving, tremulous floor of brine;
Then in deep, watery bowers
Thy glory dies away,
And one more day Eternity devours.

What ages, Sun, what ages hast thou seen,
Thus swallowed by the gulf no plummet measures,
What mighty nations, what imperial pride,
What pomp and splendour, and what heaped up treasures!
’Fore thee, what were they? Leaves blown far and wide
From the great forest—withered, light and sear,
Eddying, all tempest-tossed,
Till the blast drove them hence, and they were lost.

And thou, alone from wrath divine exempt,
Hast seen submerged all the sinful world,
When driving rains were by Jehovah poured
On man and beast; the pent up winds were hurled
O’er heaving seas, and loud the billows roared;
From rifted cloud the deafening thunder pealed
In dreadful menace; and in anguished throes
The Earth upon her diamond axle swayed;
O’er hill and plain uprose
One huge, tumultuous sea—a watery grave.
Trembled the mighty deep,
While thou, our lord, as one awake from sleep,
Above the stormy waste didst build thy throne.
Robed in funereal black,
With face that darkly gleams,
Till on new worlds thou sendest healing beams.

And wilt thou ever see
The ages rise and fall, and yield their place
In never-ending change like restless waves,
That, hurrying o’er the Ocean, crowd and break,
Recede, then sweep along in their fierce chase?
Whilst thou, O Sun, triumphant and sublime,
In lonely splendour dwellst,
Eternal witness of the march of time.

And wilt thou unextinguished thus abide,
And will thy giant furnace burn for aye,
Its fierceness unconsumed? Wilt thou, O’ Sun,
Thus proudly through the heavens go thy way,
Watching the myriad ages wax and wane,
And be alone eternally unmoved,
Holding for ever undisputed reign?
Not so—The Conqueror, Death,
Albeit in hour unknown,
Will overtake and claim thee for his own.
Perchance, who knows? Thou art but some poor spark
Of sun more vast, that on another world
Greater than ours, with light yet more divine,
And splendour unimagined once did shine!

Rejoice then, Sun, in this thy strength and youth.
For, when the dreaded day draws nigh at last,
The day when thou from thy great throne wilt fall,
(Loosed from the mighty hands
Of Him that all commands,)
And in eternity shalt hide thy Ball,
In thousand fragments shattered, wrecked and torn.
Immersed in seas of fire,
Thy course accomplished, and thy strength outworn,
Then thy pure flame in darkness, of a truth,
Will wholly cease, thy glory be o’erpast,
Shrouded for ever by the pall of night,
No vestige left of thy refulgent light.

 


 

Al Sol: Himno

Pára y óyeme, ¡ oh Sol! yo te saludo
Y extático ante ti me atrevo a hablarte:
Ardiente como tú mi fantasía,
Arrebatada en ansia de admirarte,
Intrépidas a ti sus alas guía.
¡Ojalá que mi acento poderoso,
Sublime resonado,
Del trueno pavoroso
La temerosa voz sobrepujando,
¡Oh Sol! a ti llegara
Y en medio de tu curso te parara!
¡Ah! si la llama que mi mente alumbra,
Diera también su ardor a mis sentidos,
Al rayo vencedor que los deslumbra,
Los anhelantes ojos alzaría,
Y en tu semblante fúlgido atrevidos
Mirando sin cesar los fijaría.
¡Cuánto siempre te amé, Sol refulgente!
¡Con qué sencillo anhelo,
Siendo niño inocente,
Seguirte ansiaba en el tendido cielo,
Y extático te vía
Y en contemplar tu luz me embebecía!
De los dorados límites de Oriente,
Que ciñe el rico en perlas Océano,
Al término sombroso de Occidente
Las orlas de tu ardiente vestidura
Tiendes en pompa, augusto soberano,
Y el mundo bañas en tu lumbre pura.
Vívido lanzas de tu frente el día,
Y, alma y vida del mundo,
Tu disco en paz majestuoso envía
Plácido ardor fecundo,
Y te elevas triunfante,
Corona de los orbes centellantes.
Tranquilo subes del Cenit dorado
Al regio trono en la mitad del cielo,
De vivas llamas y esplendor ornado,
Y desde allí tu fúlgida carrera
Rápido precipitas,
Y tu rica, encendida cabellera
En el seno del mar trémula agitas,
Y tu esplendor se oculta,
Y el ya pasado día
Con otros mil la eternidad sepulta.
¡Cuántos siglos sin fin, cuántos has visto
En su abismo insondable desplomarse!
¡Cuánta pompa, grandeza y poderío
De imperios populosos disiparse!
¿Qué fueron ante ti? Del bosque umbrío
Secas y leves hojas desprendidas,
Que en círculos se mecen,
Y al furor de Aquilón desaparecen.
Libre tú de la cólera divina,
Viste anegarse el universo entero
Cuando las aguas por Jehová lanzadas,
Impelidas del brazo justiciero,
Y a mares por los vientos despeñadas,
Bramó la tempestad: retumbó en torno
El ronco trueno y con temblor crujieron
Los ejes de diamante de la tierra:
Montes y campos fueron
Alborotado mar, tumba del hombre.
Se estremeció el profund;
Y entonces tú como Señor del mundo
Sobre la tempestad tu trono alzabas,
Vestido de tinieblas,
Y tu faz engreías
Y a otros mundos en paz resplandecías.
Y otra vez nuevos siglos
Viste llegar, huir, desvanecerse
En remolino eterno, cual las olas
Llegan, se agolpan y huyen de Océano,
Y tornan otra vez a sucederse;
Mientra inmutable tú, solo y radiante
¡Oh Sol! siempre te elevas,
Y edades mil y mil huellas triunfantes.
¿Y habrás de ser eterno, inextinguible,
Sin que nunca jamás tu inmensa hoguera
Pierda su resplandor, siempre incansable,
Audaz siguiendo tu inmortal carrera,
Hundirse las edades contemplando,
Y solo, eterno, perenal, sublime,
Monarca poderoso dominando?
No; que también la muerte
Si de lejos te sigue,
No menos anhelante te persigue.
¿Quién sabe si tal vez pobre destello?
Eres tú de otro sol que otro universo
Mayor que el nuestro un día
Con doble resplandor esclarecía.
Goza tu juventud y tu hermosura
¡Oh Sol! que cuando el pavoroso día
Llegue que el orbe estalle y se desprenda
De la potente mano
Del Padre Soberano,
Y allá a la eternidad también descienda
Deshecho en mil pedazos, destrozado
Y en piélagos de fuego
Envuelto para siempre y sepultado:
De cien tormentas al horrible estruendo,
En tinieblas sin fin tu llama pura
Entonces morirá: noche sombría
Cubrirá eterna la celeste cumbre:
Ni aun quedará reliquia de tu lumbre!

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on September 29, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.

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“Hymn to the Sun” first appeared as “Al Sol: Himno” in the anthology The Oxford Book Of Spanish Verse: XIIIth Century–XXth Century, edited by James Fitzmaurice-Kelly (The Clarendon Press, 1913). The English translation of the poem by Ida Farnell was published in the anthology Spanish Prose and Poetry: Old and New (The Clarendon Press, 1920).

José de Espronceda, also known as José Ignacio Javier Oriol Encarnación de Espronceda y Delgado, was born on March 25, 1808, in Almendralejo, Spain. He was a Spanish Romantic poet and became widely known for his epic poem El estudiante de Salamanca,” published in 1837, and Poesías (Imprimerie de H. Fournier, 1840). De Espronceda died on May 23, 1842, in Madrid.

Ida Farnell was a translator of Spanish literature and is noted for being a scholar at Lady Margaret Hall, University of Oxford. In addition to Spanish Prose and Poetry: Old and New (The Clarendon Press, 1920), Farnell translated medieval Spanish poetry in the anthology The Lives of the Troubadours (In the Strand, 1896). The dates of her birth and death are unknown.
Spanish Prose and Poetry: Old and New
(The Clarendon Press, 1920)

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