CXIX
TO CLARÍN

May God bless you tragic clown,
you who combine tears with laughter;
when death threatens our heart, you cool
our brow with a fresh, gentle wind;

your cheerful spirit heals our sorrow,
at least for a while, and in this way
we can live, since without you the pain
would quickly destroy our soul.

Clown, you are the remedy for grief;
thanks to you we receive the nourishment
which sustains our spiritual life;

only a bow which is loosened can shoot;
in order to live, to suffer, we laugh;
so let us laugh, since we are born to suffer.