Un triste antierro

[Nun me gusta la traduçon de l títalo, mas nun fui capaç de melhor, por anquanto]

Parai ls reloijos, zlhigai l telifone,
Botai-le un uosso al perro que nun lhadre,
Calhai ls pianos i a bombo an pousas
Traiei l caixon, béngan ls que stan de lhuito.

Bólen abiones a gemer pul cielo
Screbinhando la mensaige El Morriu-se
Ponei lhaços de lhuito a las palombas
Calce l sinaleiro lhubas negras d’algodon.

El era miu Norte, Sul, Este i Oueste,
Sumana de trabalho i die de çcanso,
Miu meidie, meia nuite, fala, i canto,
Cuidei l amor eiterno: i anganhei-me.

Naide quier streilhas agora, apagai-las,
Arrecadai la lhuna i zmuntai l sol,
Çpejai l ouceano i barrei las florestas
Porque yá nada sirbe para nada.

W. H. Auden [1936]
Traduçon de Fracisco Niebro

[an anglés

Funeral blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods
For nothing now can ever come to any good.]