Lope de Vega(25 November 1562 - 27 August 1635 / Madrid)
The Good Shepherd
- by Lope de Vega58
SHEPHERD! who with thine amorous, sylvan song Hast broken the slumber that encompassed me, Who mad'st Thy crook from the accursed tree On which Thy powerful arms were stretched so long! Lead me to mercy's ever-flowing fountains; For Thou my shepherd, guard, and guide shalt be; I will obey Thy voice, and wait to see Thy feet all beautiful upon the mountains.
Hear, Shepherd Thou who for Thy flock art dying, Oh, wash away these scarlet sins, for Thou Rejoicest at the contrite sinner's vow. Oh, wait! to Thee my weary soul is crying, Wait for me: Yet why ask it, when I see, With feet nailed to the cross, Thou'rt waiting still for me!
- by Lope de Vega57
Lord, what am I, that with unceasing care Thou did'st seek after me, that Thou did'st wait Wet with unhealthy dews before my gate, And pass the gloomy nights of winter there? Oh, strange delusion, that I did not greet Thy blest approach, and oh, to heaven how lost If my ingratitude's unkindly frost Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon Thy feet.
How oft my guardian angel gently cried, “Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see How He persists to knock and wait for thee!” And oh, how often to that Voice of sorrow, “Tomorrow we will open,” I replied, And when the morrow came I answered still “Tomorrow.”
—H. W. Longfellow (translator).
From: Hispanic Anthology: Poems Translated from the Spanish by English and North American Poets, collected and arranged by Thomas Walsh. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, 1920.
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