For Jose Garrido
Like inscrutable imprisoned bards,
the poplars of blood have fallen asleep.
The flocks of Bethlehem on the hillocks
ruminate arias of grass to the fallen sun.
The ancient pastor, shivering
at the final agonies of the light,
in his paschal eyes he has gathered,
a chaste cluster of stars.
Marked by his years as an orphan, he descends the moment
with rumors of a burial, to the kneeling field;
and the little bells autumn-ify with shadows.
The blue warped into iron survives,
and in it, with shrouded pupils,
a dog lashes out its pastoral howl.
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Original: | ![]() This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1927. The author died in 1938, so this work is also in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 80 years or less. This work may also be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. |
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Translation: | ![]() This work is released under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported license, which allows free use, distribution, and creation of derivatives, so long as the license is unchanged and clearly noted, and the original author is attributed. |