Ya lo sabe ud.
"Si las puertas de la percepción fuesen abiertas al hombre de par en par, tal como son, veríamos todo tal cual es : infinito". Me grabé esa frase con mi libro de Lenguaje y Comunicación de 2º... necesitaba leer mucho en ese entonces. Fué mi primer encuentro con Blake. Y el de los Doors, supongo, la leyenda cuenta que gracias a Blake se llaman así, no The Beatles o The Junkers, que horror. Ahora bien, el éxtasis máximo fue el poema a continuación, Tiger, el genio hecho verbo, la inspiración romántica - de los románticos - más astuta de principios de siglo, pues el tiempo pasa siempre señores, más nunca sobre uno mismo. Muéstreme ud. esa hermosa sonrisa.
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
.
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
.
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
.
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
.
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
.
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
.
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
.
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
.
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