DÍA DE ROSALÍA DE CASTRO
Tecin soia a miña tea,
sembrei soia o meu nabal,
soia vou por leña ó monte,
soia a vexo arder no lar.
Nin na fonte nin no prado,
así morra coa carraxe,
el non ha de virm'a erguer,
el xa non me pousará.
¡Que tristeza! O vento soa,
canta o grilo ó seu compás...
Ferve o pote... mais, meu caldo,
soíña t'hei de cear.
Cala, rula, os teus arrulos
ganas de morrer me dan;
cala, grilo, que si cantas,
sinto negras soïdás.
O meu homiño perdeuse,
ninguén sabe en onde vai...
Anduriña que pasache
con el as ondas do mar;
anduriña, voa, voa,
ven e dime ond'está.
Alone I wove my cloth
Alone I wove my cloth,
alone I sowed my turnip-patch
alone I go the forest for firewood,
alone I watch it burn in the hearth.
Neither by the spring nor in the meadows
-may I die with the fury of it-
will he come to raise me up.
will he come to lay me down.
Such sorrow!The wind thrums,
the pot is boiling.. and yet, O broth of mine,
all alone I shall sup you.
Hush, dove -your cooing
makes nme want to die;
hush, cricket -for if you sing,
I feek dark sadlongings.
My darling man is lost,
nobody knows where he is...
O swallow that went with him
over the waves of the sea;
O swallow, fly, fly to me,
come and tell me where he is.
Follas Novas
Rosalía de Castro
Rosalía de Castro
Pinturas de Silvestro Lega
`
Rosalía, © Aitana Carrasco
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