326. Auden sobre Freud

 Trabajo el poema de Auden a la muerte de Freud, realmente emocionante. 

 

“(…) but in a world he changed

 simply by looking back with no false regrets;

      all he did was to remember

    like the old and be honest like children. (…)

  

(…) if often he was wrong and, at times, absurd,

      to us he is no more a person

    now but a whole climate of opinion

 

under whom we conduct our different lives (…)

  

(…) but he would have us remember most of all

 to be enthusiastic over the night,

      not only for the sense of wonder

    it alone has to offer, but also

  because it needs our love. (…)

 

(…) One rational voice is dumb. Over his grave

 the household of Impulse mourns one dearly loved:

      sad is Eros, builder of cities,

    and weeping anarchic Aphrodite.”

 

                         In memory of Sigmund Freud

 

Me atrevo con la traducción, algo libre, de la última estrofa:

"(...) Una voz racional ha enmudecido. Sobre su tumba

los parientes del Impulso lloran a un ser querido:

triste está Eros, constructor de ciudades,

y desconsolada está la anárquica Afrodita."