FIN

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more.”

Die Sonette an Orpheus

Und wenn dich das Irdische vergaß,
zu der stillen Erde sag: Ich rinne.
Zu dem raschen Wasser sprich: Ich bin.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

Pedro Páramo

Hubo un tiempo que estuve oyendo durante muchas noches el rumor de una fiesta. Me llegaban los ruidos hasta la Media Luna. Me acerqué para ver el mitote aquel y vi esto: lo que estamos viendo ahora. Nada. Nadie. Las calles tan solas como ahora.
-Luego dejé de oírla. Y es que la alegría cansa. Por eso no me extrañó que aquello terminara.

The Master and Margarita

“What’s the matter, don’t you like my poetry?” asked Ivan with curiosity.
“Emphatically not.” “And what have you read?”
“I haven’t read any of your poetry!” retorted the visitor irritably.
“Then how can you tell?”
“Well,” replied the guest, “it’s not as if I haven’t read other things like it, now is it? But maybe, by some miracle, yours is different? All right, I’m ready to take it on faith. Tell me yourself, are your poems any good?”
 “Horrible!” Ivan blurted out boldly and frankly.
“Don’t write any more!” the newcomer implored.
“I promise you, I swear I won’t!” was Ivan’s solemn reply.
They sealed the vow with a handshake, and then the sounds of soft footsteps and voices were heard from the corridor.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
 “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
 Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.

Transpolysemousliteration (Literacion-transpolisémica o dilogía transpolisémica)

/ træns -ˌpɑːl.ɪˈsiː.məs - lɪt̬.əˈreɪ.ʃən /

noun

1. The simultaneous polysemic use of a word, between its original language definition and the phoneme it creates in a different language. Example: Two, referring to the number two and to a Spanish word (pronounced as two): tú.