Gabriela Mistral: La Pajita/ The Mote Of Straw

Ésta que era una niña de cera;
pero no era una niña de cera,
era una gavilla parada en la era.
Pero no era una gavilla
sino la flor tiesa de la maravilla.
Tampoco era la flor sino que era
un rayito de sol pegado a la vidriera.
No era un rayito de sol siquiera:
una pajita dentro de mis ojitos era.

¡Alléguense a mirar cómo he perdido entera,
en este lagrimón, mi fiesta verdadera!

Gabriela Mistral

The Mote Of Straw

This one who was a child of wax--

but she wasn't a child of wax at all,

she was a sheaf standing tall in her years.

But she wasn't really a sheaf--

she was an upright marigold in bloom.

But she was not at all a flower either--

she was a tiny beam of sunlight on the window.

No, she was not even a tiny beam of light,

but a mote of straw in my dear little eyes.

Come closer, all of you, and look—see

how entirely she has shed in this one unscanty teardrop

my unfeigned holiday.

Tr. EAC

E. A. Costa July 31, 2016 Granada, Nicaragua