From “Life is a
Dream”
.
We live, while we see the
sun,
Where life and dreams are as
one;
And living has taught me
this,
Man dreams the life that is
his,
Until his living is done.
The king dreams he is king,
and he lives
In the deceit of a king,
Commanding and governing;
And all the praise he
receives
Is written in wind, and
leaves
A little dust on the way
When death ends all with a
breath.
Where then is the gain of a
throne,
That shall perish and not be
known
In the other dream that is
death?
Dreams the rich man of riches
and fears,
The fears that his riches
breed;
The poor man dreams of his
need,
And all his sorrows and
tears;
Dreams he that prospers with
years
Dreams he that feigns and
foregoes,
Dreams he that rails on his
foes;
And in all the world I see.
Man dreams whatever he be,
And his own dream no man
knows.
And I too dream and behold,
I dream and I am bound with
chains,
And I dreamed that these
present pains
Were fortunate ways of old.
What is life? A tale that is
told?
What is life? A frenzy
extreme,
A shadow of things that seem;
And the greatest good is but
small,
That all life is a dream to
all,
And that dreams themselves
are a dream.
(Tr: Arthur Symons)
Pedro Calderon de la Barca
Spanish Poet
(17 January 1600 – 25 May 1681)
https://archive.org/details/anthologyofworld0000vand/page/647/mode/1up
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