Poema 10 (Spanish)
Hemos perdido aun este crepúsculo. Nadie nos vio esta tarde con las manos unidas mientras la noche azul caía sobre el mundo.
He visto desde mi ventana la fiesta del poniente en los cerros lejanos.
A veces como una moneda se encendía un pedazo de sol entre mis manos.
Yo te recordaba con el alma apretada de esa tristeza que tú me conoces.
Entonces, dónde estabas? Entre qué gentes? Diciendo qué palabras? Por qué se me vendrá todo el amor de golpe cuando me siento triste, y te siento lejana?
Cayó el libro que siempre se toma en el crepúsculo, y como un perro herido rodó a mis pies mi capa.
Siempre, siempre te alejas en las tardes hacia donde el crepúsculo corre borrando estatuas. Uploaded by | P. T. |
Source of the quotation | http://www.adowns.com |
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Poem 10 (English)
We have lost even this twilight. No one saw us this evening hand in hand while the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand.
I remembered you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away?
The book fell that always closed at twilight and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
Always, always you recede through the evenings toward the twilight erasing statues.
Uploaded by | P. T. |
Source of the quotation | http://www.adowns.com |
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