Arte Poética
Jorge Luis Borges

Mirar el río hecho de tiempo y agua
Y recordar que el tiempo es otro río,
Saber que nos perdemos como el río
Y que los rostros pasan como el agua.

Sentir que la vigilia es otro sueño
Que sueña no soñar y que la muerte
Que teme nuestra carne es esa muerte
De cada noche, que se llama sueño.

Ver en el día o en el año un símbolo
De los días del hombre y de sus años,
Convertir el ultraje de los años
En una música, un rumor y un símbolo.

Ver en la muerte el sueño, en el ocaso
Un triste oro, tal es la poesía
Que es inmortal y pobre. La poesía
Vuelve como la aurora y el ocaso.

A veces en las tardes una cara
Nos mira desde el fondo de un espejo;
El arte debe ser como ese espejo
Que nos revela nuestra propia cara.

Cuentan que Ulises, harto de prodigios,
Lloró de amor al divisar su Itaca
Verde y humilde. El arte es esa Itaca
De verde eternidad, no de prodigios.

También es como el río interminable
Que pasa y queda y es cristal de un mismo
Heráclito inconstante, que es el mismo
Y es otro, como el río interminable.

The Art of Poetry
Pathetic Translation by Evan A. Carmouche

To view the river composed of time & water
And to recall that time is another river,
To know that we lose ourselves like the river
And that the visages pass by like the water.

To feel that the vigil is another dream
That dreams not to dream and that the death
That fears our flesh is that nightly death,
Called the dream.

To see in the day or in the year a symbol
Of the days of man and of his years,
To convert the affront of the years
Into a music, a rumor, and a symbol.

To see in death the dream, in the sunset
A sorrowful gold, such is the poetry
That is immortal and poor. Poetry
returns like the dawn and the sunset.

Sometimes in the afternoons a face
Gazes upon us from the background of a mirror;
Art should be like that mirror
That reveals to us our own face.

They say that Ulysses, full of wonder,
Cried of love to divide his Ithaca
so green and humble. Art is that Ithaca
of everlasting green, not of wonder.

It also is like the river's infinitude
that goes and waits and is a crystal of the same
Inconstant Heraclitus, that it is the same
And is another, the river's infinitude.

Comment, especialliy if you know spanish.
Not bad. I could understand about 60 or 70%. I like to see songs in Spanish around here. It doesn't sound as good if you only read the english. I'll give it a 4/5.
I'd say the translation is pretty good. In captures the meaning, but I think some of the english word choices are a bit strange, and not the ones I would choose.
My Spanish is not great but I got most of it and I think it is a beautiful translation. However, for the very last stanza I personally think it should be
It also is like the infinite river
And is another, like the infinite river

But that is just a little thing so do what you like
Good job at translating that!
Alright, this forum is only for original works. A translation sort of falls into the grey zone, therefore I might have to close this. I will talk it over with Alice first, so I'm leaving this open for now.

Oh and if you have not yet read the FAQ, you should give it a look, and this goes to everyone.

EDIT: After consulting Jallas, this will be closed as it is not original work.