La Composición de un Nuevo Día

James Joyce's short story "Araby" follows an unnamed narrator in his tale of intense infatuation and fall from grace when he realizes love is not what he thought it would be. Amongst our young narrator's confessions of love, we read the line, "Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand," invoking themes of religious worship and naivety. After all, "Araby" not only speaks of a child's loss of innocence but also of his loss of religion, or more precisely, the substitution of religion with a devotion much less holy. 

These themes are reminiscent of one of my favorite love sonnets by Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, who wrote of the same impiety, instead directing his devotion to the woman he loved.

In its original version:

Hoy es hoy con el peso de todo el tiempo ido,
con las alas de todo lo que será mañana,
hoy es el Sur del mar, la vieja edad del agua
y la composición de un nuevo día.

A tu boca elevada a la luz o a la luna
se agregaron los pétalos de un día consumido,
y ayer viene trotando por su calle sombría
para que recordemos su rostro que se ha muerto.

Hoy, ayer y mañana se comen caminando,
consumimos un día como una vaca ardiente,
nuestro ganado espera con sus días contados,

pero en tu corazón el tiempo echó su harina,
mi amor construyó un horno con barro de Temuco:
tú eres el pan de cada día para mi alma.

Stephen Tapscott's translation reads as follows:

Today is today, with the weight of all past time,
with the wings of all that will be tomorrow;
today is the South of the sea, water’s old age,
the composition of a new day.

The petals of a finished day collected on your mouth,
Lifted to the light or to the moon,
And yesterday comes trotting down its darkening path
So we can remember that face of yours that died.

Today, yesterday, and tomorrow pass,
Swallowed up, consumed in one day like a burning calf;
Our cattle wait with their days numbered,

But in your heart time sprinkled its flour,
My love built an oven of Temuco clay:
You are my soul’s daily bread.

I find that the first half of Neruda's poem fits perfectly with Joyce's "Araby," drawing on the idea of the passing of time and the unsavory discoveries that come with growing up. The second half touches on religious symbolism and specifically, the last line "You are my soul's daily bread," encompasses the theme of replacing God with the woman he thinks he loves. Reading the two pieces together created such a beautiful connection between them, and I find that the material speaks much more profoundly when they are paired. 

Dublin, Ireland, in which "Araby" takes place. Strangely the only photo of Dublin that I could find in my travel photos.