Reely's Poetry Blog

by LOPE DE VEGA (1562-1635)

I gaze upon your orbs of light,
The countless stars that gem the sky;
Each in its sphere serenely bright, 
Wheeling its course—how silently, 
While in the mantle of the night 
Earth and its cares and troubles lie. 

Temple of light and loveliness,
And throne of grandeur!—can it be
That souls whose kindred loftiness 
Nature hath framed to rise to thee 
Should pine within this narrow place, 
This prison of mortality? 

What madness from the path of right
For ever leads our steps astray, 
That, reckless of thy pure delight, 
We turn from this divine array, 
To chase a shade that mocks the sight— 
A good that vanisheth away?

Awake, ye mortals! raise your eyes
To these eternal starry spheres!
Look on these glories of the skies,
And see how poor this world appears,
With all its pomps and vanities,
With all its hopes and all its fears.

Who can look forth upon this blaze 
Of heavenly lamps, so brightly shining 
Through the unbounded void of space, 
A hand unseen their course assigning— 
All moving with unequal pace, 
Yet in harmonious concord joining; 

Who sees the silver chariot move,
Of the bright moon, and, gliding slow,
The star whose influence from above 
Sheds knowledge on the world below; 
And the resplendent queen of love, 
All bright and beautifully glow 

Who that hath seen these splendours roll,
And gazed on this majestic scene, 
But sigh'd t' escape the -world's control, 
Spurning its pleasures poor and mean— 
To burst the bonds that bind the soul, 
And pass the gulf that yawns between?

Translated by Henry Richard, Lord Holland