The Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lads and hilly lands.
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
La cançó de l’errant Aengus
Vaig fugir al bosc d’avellaners
perquè em sentia bullir el cap,
i vaig tallar i pelar una vara
i lligar amb una baia un ham;
i quan les blanques papallones
voleiaren com els estels,
vaig llançar aquella vara al riu
i vaig pescar-hi un peix d’argent.
I quan l’hagué deixat al terra
vaig disposar-me a encendre un foc,
però sentí un renou pel terra:
algú em cridava pel meu nom;
es mudà en noia resplendent
amb flors de pomera al cabell:
em cridà pel meu nom, i en l’aire
lluminós, desaparegué.
Malgrat que vell de tant errar
entre turons i fondalades,
descobriré cap on anà
per prendre-li les mans i besar-la;
aniré per la gespa clapada
fins que el temps s’extingeixi del tot,
collint pomes d’argent de la lluna
i les pomes daurades del sol.
The Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lads and hilly lands.
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
La cançó de l’errant Aengus
Vaig fugir al bosc d’avellaners
perquè em sentia bullir el cap,
i vaig tallar i pelar una vara
i lligar amb una baia un ham;
i quan les blanques papallones
voleiaren com els estels,
vaig llançar aquella vara al riu
i vaig pescar-hi un peix d’argent.
I quan l’hagué deixat al terra
vaig disposar-me a encendre un foc,
però sentí un renou pel terra:
algú em cridava pel meu nom;
es mudà en noia resplendent
amb flors de pomera al cabell:
em cridà pel meu nom, i en l’aire
lluminós, desaparegué.
Malgrat que vell de tant errar
entre turons i fondalades,
descobriré cap on anà
per prendre-li les mans i besar-la;
aniré per la gespa clapada
fins que el temps s’extingeixi del tot,
collint pomes d’argent de la lluna
i les pomes daurades del sol.