Poem: Castilla by Miguel de Unamuno

(Spanish)

Tú me levantas, tierra de Castilla,

en la rugosa palma de tu mano,

al cielo que te enciende y te refresca,

al cielo, tu amo,

Tierra nervuda, enjuta, despejada,

madre de corazones y de brazos,

toma el presente en ti viejos colores

del noble antaño.

Con la pradera cóncava del cielo

lindan en torno tus desnudos campos,

tiene en ti cuna el sol y en ti sepulcro

y en ti santuario.

Es todo cima tu extensión redonda

y en ti me siento al cielo levantado,

aire de cumbre es el que se respira

aquí, en tus páramos.

¡Ara gigante, tierra castellana,

a ese tu aire soltaré mis cantos,

si te son dignos bajarán al mundo

desde lo alto!

(English)

You lift me up, land of Castile,

in the rough and wrinkled palm of your hand,

to the sky that lights you up and refreshes you,

to the sky, your master.

Sinewy, wiry, clear land,

mother of hearts and arms,

takes the present in you, old colors

of the noble yesteryear.

With the concave meadow of the sky

the naked fields border around,

in thee the sun has its cradle and in thee its sepulcher

and in thee a sanctuary.

Your round expanse is all summit

and in you I feel myself lifted to the sky,

the air of the summit is what one breath

here, in your moors.

Giant plough, Castilian land,

to that air of yours I will release my songs,

if they are worthy for you they will descend to the world

from above!