jueves, 2 de marzo de 2017

A PAN, UN POEMA, POR H.P. LOVECRAFT

Otro de sus tempranos poemas mitológicos, el Dios Cabrito de los Bosques volvería dentro de su ficción como una figura a menudo siniestra.


                                                              Seated in a woodland glen
By a shallow reedy stream
Once I fell a-musing, when
I was lull’d into a dream.


From the brook a shape arose
Half a man and half a goat.
Hoofs it had instead of toes
And a beard adorn’d its throat


On a set of rustic reeds
Sweetly play’d this hybrid man
Naught car’d I for earthly needs,
For I knew that this was Pan

Nymphs and Satyrs gather’d ’round
To enjoy the lively sound.


All to soon I woke in pain
And return’d to haunts of men.
But in rural vales I’d fain
Live and hear Pan’s pipes again.