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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

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5 Responses

  1. Frank Rable

    Paul, that was an enjoyable read. Without more than a slight knowledge of Spanish, I still feel that your translation caught the spirit of the poem. It was a sad regret for a life moving along without fire, without the purpose TO BE. I think we may have all felt that need to break the monotony and forge a new path.
    I know such things don’t always translate well but I think you have done it.

    Reply
    • Paul Burgess

      I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment. Bécquer is one of my favorite poets. I feel like it’s impossible to capture all of the music and beauty in another language, but I still think it’s worth trying.

      Reply
  2. Frank Rable

    Still, in English, I found it worthwhile to reread it a number of times. It spoke directly to the emotional side of my mind rather than being relayed there by the logical mind. I thank you for presenting it.

    Reply
  3. Cheryl A Corey

    Paul, your nicely done translation inspires me to return my attention to the many partially completed Spanish translations of my own.

    Reply
  4. Joseph S. Salemi

    Becquer was a quintessential Romantic, in the Romantic tradition of longing for an escape from mundane tedium into a imagined world that transcends it. Look at his wonderful poem that begins “Yo soy morena, yo soy ardiente, yo soy el simbolo de la pasion…” It calls for a flight from the real to the unattainable sublime. And Becquer likes to use the exclamation point — a tendency that he may have picked up from Shelley.

    This particular piece is essentially a lament on the dull routine of existence. The English translation is quite faithful to the Spanish, even though Burgess must find equivalents in rhyme for the even lines of each quatrain. That’s hard to do.

    Reply

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