Portrait Of A Lady
Your thighs are appletree
whose blossoms touch the sky.
Which sky? The sky
where Watteau hung a lady's
slipper. Your knees
are a southern breeze-or
a gust of snow. Agh! what
sort of man was Fragonard?
-as if that answered
anything. Ah, yes-below
the knees, since the tune
drops that way, it is
one of those white summer days,
the tall grass of your ankles
flickers upon the shore-
Which shore?-
the sand clings to my lips-
Which shore?
Agh, petals maybe. How
should I know?
Which shore? Which shore?
I said petals from an appletree.
whose blossoms touch the sky.
Which sky? The sky
where Watteau hung a lady's
slipper. Your knees
are a southern breeze-or
a gust of snow. Agh! what
sort of man was Fragonard?
-as if that answered
anything. Ah, yes-below
the knees, since the tune
drops that way, it is
one of those white summer days,
the tall grass of your ankles
flickers upon the shore-
Which shore?-
the sand clings to my lips-
Which shore?
Agh, petals maybe. How
should I know?
Which shore? Which shore?
I said petals from an appletree.
William Carlos Williams
Portrait Of A Lady
Tus muslos son manzanos
cuyas flores tocan el cielo.
Qué cielo? El cielo
donde Watteau colgó la zapatilla
de una dama. Tus rodillas
son una brisa del sur o
una ráfaga a de nieve Agh! Qué
tipo de hombre era Fragonard ?
– como si eso aclarase
algo. Ah, si -debajo
de las rodilla, ya que la melodía
desciende por ese camino, hay
uno de esos blancos días de verano,
la alta hierba de tus tobillos
centellea en la orilla. –
Qué orilla? –
la arena se pega a mis labios-
Qué orilla?
Agh,pétalos quizás.Cómo
podría yo saberlo?
Que orilla? Que orilla?
Yo dije pétalos de un manzano.
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Maravillosa interpretación poetica del erótico cuadro de Fragonard "El columpio "
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