James Weldon Johnson, ed. (1871–1938). The Book of American Negro Poetry. 1922.
Appendix
<LINE=”1″>Plácido’s Sonnet to His Mother
Despida a Mi Madre
(En La Capilla)
SI la suerte fatal que me ha cabido,<LINE=”2″>Y el triste fin de mi sangrienta historia,<LINE=”3″>Al salir de esta vida transitoria<LINE=”4″>Deja to corazon de muerte herido;<LINE=”5″>Baste de llanto: el ánimo afligido<LINE=”6″>Recobre su quietud; moro en la gloria,<LINE=”7″>Y mi plácida lira á to memoria<LINE=”8″>Lanza en la tumba su postrer sonido.<LINE=”9″>Sonido dulce, melodioso y santo,<LINE=”10″>Glorioso, espiritual, puro y divino,<LINE=”11″>Inocente, espontáneo como el llanto<LINE=”12″>Que vertiera al nacer: ya el cuello inclino!<LINE=”13″>Ya de la religion me cubre el manto!<LINE=”14″>Adios, mi madre! adios—El Peligrino.<LINE=”15″>
Farewell to My Mother
(In the Chapel)
THE APPOINTED lot has come upon me, mother,<LINE=”16″>The mournful ending of my years of strife,<LINE=”17″>This changing world I leave, and to another<LINE=”18″>In blood and terror goes my spirit’s life.<LINE=”19″>But thou, grief-smitten, cease thy mortal weeping<LINE=”20″>And let thy soul her wonted peace regain;<LINE=”21″>I fall for right, and thoughts of thee are sweeping<LINE=”22″>Across my lyre to wake its dying strains.<LINE=”23″>A strain of joy and gladness, free, unfailing<LINE=”24″>All glorious and holy, pure, divine,<LINE=”25″>And innocent, unconscious as the wailing<LINE=”26″>I uttered on my birth; and I resign<LINE=”27″>Even now, my life, even now descending slowly,<LINE=”28″>Faith’s mantle folds me to my slumbers holy.<LINE=”29″>Mother, farewell! God keep thee—and forever!
Translated by William Cullen Bryant.
<LINE=”30″>
Plácido’s Farewell to His Mother
(Written in the Chapel of the Hospital de Santa Cristina on the Night Before His Execution)
IF the unfortunate fate engulfing me,<LINE=”31″>The ending of my history of grief,<LINE=”32″>The closing of my span of years so brief,<LINE=”33″>Mother, should wake a single pang in thee,<LINE=”34″>Weep not. No saddening thought to me devote;<LINE=”35″>I calmly go to a death that is glory-filled,<LINE=”36″>My lyre before it is forever stilled<LINE=”37″>Breathes out to thee its last and dying note.<LINE=”38″>A note scarce more than a burden-easing sigh,<LINE=”39″>Tender and sacred, innocent, sincere—<LINE=”40″>Spontaneous and instinctive as the cry<LINE=”41″>I gave at birth-And now the hour is here—<LINE=”42″>O God, thy mantle of mercy o’er my sins!<LINE=”43″>Mother, farewell! The pilgrimage begins.
Translated by James Weldon Johnson.