‘Today Like Yesterday’: A Poem by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer, Translated by Paul Burgess

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Today Like Yesterday

by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer (1836-1870)
translated by Paul Burgess

Today like yesterday, tomorrow like today:
___A sky of only grays,
An endless horizon that goes on, changeless, dull,
___The same across the days;

The heart’s repeated mindless pounding, like machines’
___Insistent pulsing beep;
A brain lethargic in a corner, intellect
___And higher thoughts asleep;

A soul desiring Paradise, seeking but not
___Believing it will reach that shore;
An aimless weariness; a rolling wave, not sure
___Of what it’s rolling for;

A ceaseless voice that sings without a shift in tone
___Or change in key or song;
A waterdrop, monotonous that falls the same,
___Each time as short or long.

Thus pass the days like tethered cars connected in
___An endless cargo train—
Today the same as yesterday, a life devoid
___Of pleasure and of pain.

At times, I sigh recalling what I felt before:
___Those pangs of woe and strife—
A taste I’d welcome now; the bitter pain, the mark
___Of souls that pulse with life.

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Translator’s Note: For readers’ reference, I have included the original poem in Spanish. My verse translation seeks to balance preserving the meaning and spirit of the original with maintaining its musicality. The original poem uses quatrains of alternating hexameter and trimeter with an ABCB rhyme scheme. To echo this rhythm in English, I have used alternating lines of iambic pentameter and trimeter. I feel this approach captures the essence of the original while also sounding natural and suitably elevated in English. While I have aimed for fidelity, I have made intentional changes to certain phrases and lines where these adjustments enhance the poem’s readability and rhythm in English.

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Original Spanish

“Rima LVI: Hoy como ayer, mañana como hoy”
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer (1836-1870)

Hoy como ayer, mañana como hoy,
¡y siempre igual!
un cielo gris, un horizonte eterno,
¡y andar… andar!
Moviéndose a compás, como una estúpida
máquina, el corazón;
la torpe inteligencia, del cerebro
dormía en un rincón.
El alma, que ambiciona un paraíso,
buscándolo sin fe;
fatiga, sin objeto, ola que rueda
ignorando por qué.
Voz que incesante con el mismo tono
canta el mismo cantar;
gota de agua monótona que cae,
y cae sin cesar.
Así van deslizándose los días
unos de otros en pos,
hoy lo mismo que ayer… y todos ellos
sin goce ni dolor.
¡Ay! a veces me acuerdo suspirando
del antiguo sufrir…
Amargo es el dolor; pero siquiera
¡padecer es vivir!

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Paul Burgess, an emerging poet, is the sole proprietor of a business in Lexington, Kentucky that offers ESL classes in addition to English, Japanese, and Spanish-language translation and interpretation services. He has an M.A. in English with a concentration in the Renaissance and once earned a fellowship at the Folger Shakespeare Library. He has contributed work to Blue Unicorn, The Orchards, Flash Phantoms, and several other publications and has recently started writing short fiction