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Storni, Alfonsina: Naked soul (Alma desnuda in English)

Portre of Storni, Alfonsina
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Alma desnuda (Spanish)

Soy un alma desnuda en estos versos,

Alma desnuda que angustiada y sola

Va dejando sus pétalos dispersos.


Alma que puede ser una amapola,

Que puede ser un lirio, una violeta,

Un peñasco, una selva y una ola.


Alma que como el viento vaga inquieta

Y ruge cuando está sobre los mares,

Y duerme dulcemente en una grieta.


Alma que adora sobre sus altares,

Dioses que no se bajan a cegarla;

Alma que no conoce valladares.


Alma que fuera fácil dominarla

Con sólo un corazón que se partiera

Para en su sangre cálida regarla.


Alma que cuando está en la primavera

Dice al invierno que demora: vuelve,

Caiga tu nieve sobre la pradera.


Alma que cuando nieva se disuelve

En tristezas, clamando por las rosas

con que la primavera nos envuelve.


Alma que a ratos suelta mariposas

A campo abierto, sin fijar distancia,

Y les dice: libad sobre las cosas.


Alma que nada sabe y todo niega

Y negando lo bueno el bien propicia

Porque es negando como más se entrega.


Alma que suele haber como delicia

Palpar las almas, despreciar la huella,

Y sentir en la mano una caricia.


Alma que siempre disconforme de ella,

Como los vientos vaga, corre y gira;

Alma que sangra y sin cesar delira

Por ser el buque en marcha de la estrella.

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Source of the quotation

Naked soul (English)

I am a naked soul in these verses,

A naked soul, anxious and lonely

dropping its scattered blossoms


A soul that resembles a poppy,

That can be a lilly, violet

A rock, a jungle and a wave.


A soul that like the wind wanders restlessly

And shouts it she is over the seas,

And sleeps sweetly in a chasm


A soul that adores on its altars

Gods who will not climb down to blind it

A soul that knows no wall.


A sould that easily could rule

Just one heart, if it was willing to split in two

That the blood would sprinkle upon them.


A soul that in spring

Asks the winter to stay: Come back,

May your snow lay upon my meadows.


A soul that dissolves when it is snowing

Crying with grief for roses

With which the spring is infolding us.


A soul, from which sometimes butterflies spring

Out into the fields, regardless the distances,

And to which it says: Sip the things.


A soul that knows nothing and that denies everything

And, denying the good advances the good

Because its devotion is biggest in denial.


A soul that usually enjoys

Stroking souls, contemning the traces,

And to feel a tender touch in the hand.


A soul that is discordant with itself,

Like the winds wandering, running and turning;

A soul that bleeds and is ceaselessly delirious

Because it is the boat on the way to the stars.

Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotation