El Tigre (The Tiger), William Blake

Tigre! Tigre! Foc brunyit
En les selves de la nit,
¿Quin immortal ull o mà
Tan bell i fer t'emmarcà?

¿En quins cels o mars distants
El foc dels teus ulls cremava?
A tals ales Ell pujà?
Prendre el foc la mà gosava?

¿Quina espatlla o art podia
Del teu cor tendons torçar?
Quan el cor bategaria,
Quin temible peu i mà!

Quina cadena i martell?
De quin forn surt el cervell?
Quina enclusa? ¿Quina garra
Por mortal cenyir gosava?

Quan estels deixant les llances
Mullaven el cel amb llàgrimes,
A l'obra seva Ell somreia?
Qui et forjà, va fer l'Ovella?

Tigre! Tigre! Foc brunyit
En les selves de la nit,
¿Quin immortal ull o mà
Emmarcar-te fer gosà?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the nigth,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In waht distant deeps or skies,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? waht the chain,
In waht furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? waht dread grasp,
Dare ist 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?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In te forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?