Idioma Origen:
[Wystan Hugh Auden]
Lady, weeping at the crossroads, would you meet your love
In the twilight with his greyhounds and the hawk upon his glove?
Bribe the bird then on the branches, bribe them to be dumb
Stare the hot sun out of heaven that the night may come
Starless are the nights of travel, bleak the winter wind
Run with terror all before you and regret behind
Run until you hear the ocean's everlasting cry
Deep though it may be and bitter, you must drink it dry
drink it dry.......
Wear out patience in the lowest dungeons of the sea
Searching through the stranded shipwrecks for the golden key
Push on to the world's end, pay the dread guard with a kiss
Cross the rotten bridge that totters over the abyss
There stands the deserted castle, ready to explore
Enter, climb the marble staircase, 0pen the locked door
Cross the silent empty ballroom, doubt and danger past
Blow the cobwebs from the mirror, see yourself at last
Put your hand behind the wainscot, you have done your part
Find the penknife there and plunge it into your false heart
Lady, weeping at the crossroads
Would you meet your love?
Idioma Destino:
[Wystan Hugh Auden]
Lady, weeping at the crossroads, would you meet your love
In the twilight with his greyhounds and the hawk upon his glove?
Bribe the bird then on the branches, bribe them to be dumb
Stare the hot sun out of heaven that the night may come
Starless are the nights of travel, bleak the winter wind
Run with terror all before you and regret behind
Run until you hear the ocean's everlasting cry
Deep though it may be and bitter, you must drink it dry
drink it dry.......
Wear out patience in the lowest dungeons of the sea
Searching through the stranded shipwrecks for the golden key
Push on to the world's end, pay the dread guard with a kiss
Cross the rotten bridge that totters over the abyss
There stands the deserted castle, ready to explore
Enter, climb the marble staircase, 0pen the locked door
Cross the silent empty ballroom, doubt and danger past
Blow the cobwebs from the mirror, see yourself at last
Put your hand behind the wainscot, you have done your part
Find the penknife there and plunge it into your false heart
Lady, weeping at the crossroads
Would you meet your love?