Easter Bouquet for AG - Fourth Lily
El ángel guardián
de Gabriela Mistral
Es verdad, no es un cuento;
de Gabriela Mistral
Es verdad, no es un cuento;
hay un Ángel Guardián
que te toma y te lleva como el viento
y con los niños va por donde van.
Tiene cabellos suaves
que van en la venteada,
ojos dulces y graves
que te sosiegan con una mirada
y matan miedos dando claridad.
(No es un cuento, es verdad.)
Él tiene cuerpo, manos y pies de alas
y las seis alas vuelan o resbalan,
las seis te llevan de su aire batido
y lo mismo te llevan de dormido.
Hace más dulce la pulpa madura
que entre tus labios golosos estrujas;
rompe a la nuez su taimada envoltura
y es quien te libra de gnomos y brujas.
Es quien te ayuda a que cortes las rosas,
que están sentadas en trampas de espinas,
el que te pasa las aguas mañosas
y el que te sube las cuestas más pinas.
Y aunque camine contigo apareado,
como la guinda y la guinda bermeja,
cuando su seña te pone el pecado
recoge tu alma y el cuerpo te deja.
Es verdad, no es un cuento:
hay un Ángel Guardián
que te toma y te lleva como el viento
y con los niños va por donde van.
The Guardian Angel
It is true and not a myth,
The guardian angel indeed exists,
He takes and leaves you like the breeze,
Traveling with children wherever they please.
He has hair so fair
That blows in the wind.
Of sweet keen eyes he has a pair
With which he always has you pinned.
And they kill fear with just one swoop,
(This is not a lie, I’m telling the truth.)
He has a body, hands, and feet of wings,
And six wings that fly or slip around.
The six carry you on air as they swing
And carry you as well when your sleep is sound.
He makes sweeter the ripest fruit
Which between your joyful lips you chew,
He cracks the hardest nut for you,
And frees you from witches and gnomes too.
He is the one who helps you cut roses
That are in the midst of the thorns planted,
He guides you over the river’s fiercest courses
And carries you on the slopes that are most slanted.
And even though he walks with you
Like purple and red cherries bunched together,
When sin’s foul sign is put on you,
He leaves the body, and picks up the soul like a feather.
It is true and not a myth,
The guardian angel indeed exists,
He takes and leaves you like the breeze,
Traveling with children wherever they please.
The Guardian Angel
It is true and not a myth,
The guardian angel indeed exists,
He takes and leaves you like the breeze,
Traveling with children wherever they please.
He has hair so fair
That blows in the wind.
Of sweet keen eyes he has a pair
With which he always has you pinned.
And they kill fear with just one swoop,
(This is not a lie, I’m telling the truth.)
He has a body, hands, and feet of wings,
And six wings that fly or slip around.
The six carry you on air as they swing
And carry you as well when your sleep is sound.
He makes sweeter the ripest fruit
Which between your joyful lips you chew,
He cracks the hardest nut for you,
And frees you from witches and gnomes too.
He is the one who helps you cut roses
That are in the midst of the thorns planted,
He guides you over the river’s fiercest courses
And carries you on the slopes that are most slanted.
And even though he walks with you
Like purple and red cherries bunched together,
When sin’s foul sign is put on you,
He leaves the body, and picks up the soul like a feather.
It is true and not a myth,
The guardian angel indeed exists,
He takes and leaves you like the breeze,
Traveling with children wherever they please.
posted by Arturo Vasquez @ 2:45 PM
1 Comments:
When I was a child, my mom told me that if I prayed hard enough, and if I were quiet enough, my guardian angel would tell me her name. I prayed, and I sat quietly, and in the end I decided her name was Agatha. I'd like to believe, though, that I chose that name for her and her real name is much more fabulous.
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