Hare Krishna, dear gurudeva. Pamho, AGTSP!
Here is a translation of thie poem. Based on a previous one with some arrangements.
El hipopótamo
T.S. Eliot
El hipopótamo de gran lomo
reposa sobre su panza en el fango.
Si bien parece muy sólido
es meramente carne y sangre.
La carne y la sangre son débiles y frágiles,
y susceptibles a tener ataques de nervios;
mientras la Verdadera Iglesia no caerá jamás
porque se yergue sobre una roca.
Los ligeros pasos del hipopótamo pueden errar
al perseguir fines materiales,
mientras que la Verdadera Iglesia no debe incomodarse
para recoger sus dividendos.
El hipopótamo nunca puede alcanzar
el fruto del mango en el mango:
pero los frutos del granado y del duraznero
sacian a la Iglesia viniendo de ultramar.
En la época de apareamiento la voz del hipopótamo
revela roncas y extrañas inflexiones;
pero cada semana oímos a la Iglesia alegrarse
de ser una sola con Dios.
El día del hipopótamo transcurre
en el sueño; por la noche va a cazar.
Dios opera en forma misteriosa: La Iglesia
puede dormir y nutrirse al mismo tiempo.
Vi al hipopótamo echarse a volar
ascendiendo desde las húmedas sabanas,
y coros de ángeles en torno a él cantando
la alabanza de Dios, en sonoras hosannas.
Será lavado con la sangre del Cordero
y será rodeado por brazos celestiales.
Lo podremos ver en medio de los santos
tocar un arpa de oro.
Quedará lavado y blanco como la nieve
besado por todas las vírgenes mártires,
mientras la Verdadera Iglesia permanecerá acá abajo
envuelta en las miasmas de la antigua niebla.
I'm sending the annoucement of my civil wedding [attached as a photo]. I ill be something simple due to the circunstances.
Please, gurudev and dear devotees send us, kindly, your blessings so we, LAD and RR dd, can do a nice sankirtan for Srila Prabhupada. That's the hole point to get married, right? And for some couples, have children. We don't want to get there.
Thanks for your support and advice.
your servants,
LAD & RR dd
ASA - When is the Wed Ding?
Where is the Wed Ding?
[Google/Tran Slate] back to you.
The hippo
T.S. Eliot
The great-backed hippo
it rests on its belly in the mud.
While it seems very solid
it is merely flesh and blood.
Flesh and blood are weak and fragile,
and susceptible to having nervous attacks;
while the True Church will never fall
because it stands on a rock.
The light steps of the hippopotamus can miss
by pursuing material ends,
while the True Church shouldn't bother
to collect your dividends.
The hippo can never reach
the fruit of the mango in the mango:
but the fruits of the pomegranate and the peach tree
they satiate the Church coming from overseas.
In the mating season the voice of the hippopotamus
reveals hoarse and strange inflections;
but every week we hear the church rejoice
to be one with God.
The day of the hippo passes in dream;
at night he goes hunting.
God operates in a mysterious way:
The Church you can sleep
and nourish yourself at the same time.
I saw the hippo fly away
rising from the damp savannas,
and choirs of angels around him singing
the praise of God, in sonorous hosannas.
He will be washed with the blood of the Lamb
and he will be surrounded by heavenly arms.
We can see it in the midst of the saints
play a golden harp.
It will be washed and white as snow
kissed by all the virgin martyrs,
while the true church will remain here below
shrouded in the miasmas of the ancient mist.
TB - A few mistakes here and there, no? Write a new poem in Spanish based upon this one??? With rhyme and meter. Better things to do?
World needs poetry and the company of gentlemen.
🙂
