ON THE DEATH OF GARCILASSO
by: Juan Boscán
me, dear Garcilasso,--thou
- Who ever aimedst at good,
- And in the spirit of thy vow
- So swift her course pursued
- That thy few steps sufficed to place
- The angel in thy loved embrace,
- Won instant soon as wooed,--
- Why took'st thou not, when winged to flee
- From this dark world, Boscán, with thee?
- Why, when ascending to the star
- Where now thou sit'st enshrined,
- Left'st thou thy weeping friend afar,
- Alas! so far behind?
- Oh, I do think, had it remained
- With thee to alter aught ordained
- By the Eternal Mind,
- Thou wouldst not on this desert spot
- Have left thy other self forgot!
- For if through life thy love was such
- As still to take a pride
- In having me so oft and much
- Close to thy envied side,--
- I cannot doubt, I must believe,
- Thou wouldst at least have taken leave
- Of me; or, if denied,
- Have come back afterwards, unblest
- Till I too shared thy heavenly rest.
--Translated by J.H. Wiffen
MORE POEMS BY JUAN BOSCÁN ALMOGAVER
"On the Death of Garcilasso"
is reprinted from Hispanic Anthology: Poems Translated from
the Spanish by English and North American Poets. Ed. Thomas
Walsh. New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1920.