Poem
Giovanni Quessep
Sphinx
Happy you that don\'t lookinto the eyes of the Sphinx,
and don\'t see that the labyrinth of its sand
is blue; terrible
knowledge of a bitter life
that the last gardens give to us.
Happy you that don\'t know
who weaves the illusion of your tapestries,
neither who the spinner of your days is,
vintager that gives a sad wine.
You sing your hymn, crazy of hope,
and don\'t know if you die or you live.
© Translation: 2003, Raúl Jaime Gaviria
Esfinge
Esfinge
Feliz tú que no miraslos ojos de la Esfinge,
y no ves que es azul el laberinto
de su arena; terrible
conocimiento de una vida amarga
el que nos dan los últimos jardines.
Feliz tú que no sabes
quién teje la ilusión de tus tapices,
ni quién es la hilandera de tus días,
vendimiadora que da un vino triste.
Cantas tu himno, loco de esperanza,
y no sabes si mueres o si vives.
© 2001, Giovanni Quessep
From: Revista Prometeo
From: Revista Prometeo
Poems
Poems of Giovanni Quessep
Close
Sphinx
Happy you that don\'t lookinto the eyes of the Sphinx,
and don\'t see that the labyrinth of its sand
is blue; terrible
knowledge of a bitter life
that the last gardens give to us.
Happy you that don\'t know
who weaves the illusion of your tapestries,
neither who the spinner of your days is,
vintager that gives a sad wine.
You sing your hymn, crazy of hope,
and don\'t know if you die or you live.
© 2003, Raúl Jaime Gaviria
From: Revista Prometeo
From: Revista Prometeo
Sphinx
Happy you that don\'t lookinto the eyes of the Sphinx,
and don\'t see that the labyrinth of its sand
is blue; terrible
knowledge of a bitter life
that the last gardens give to us.
Happy you that don\'t know
who weaves the illusion of your tapestries,
neither who the spinner of your days is,
vintager that gives a sad wine.
You sing your hymn, crazy of hope,
and don\'t know if you die or you live.
© 2003, Raúl Jaime Gaviria
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