Last Night, As I Was Sleeping by Antonio Machado

This post is an experiment, something I have never done before.  There are many car commercials with the disclaimer "Professional driver.  Closed course.  Do not attempt."  Sometimes unfortunate things happen when poetry is attempted by non-professionals.

The experiment I am conducting is to modify Robert Bly's translation of Antonio Machado's poem. Not very much, but in doing so I'm wanting to find out a couple of things.  First, I want to see how it feels to arrogate the right to modify English translations of great poems by other great poets. Second, I want to see how the modified version feels compared to the original version.  Third, I want to see how the modified version feels to others, compared to the original version.  Got that?

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt - blessed illusion!
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct
O water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt - blessed illusion!
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt - blessed illusion!
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt - blessed illusion!
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.




I first encountered this poem as the penultimate poem in the collection The Soul Is Here For It's Own Joy