Gabriela Mistral Poems
|4.||Song Of Death||4/3/2012|
|7.||The Shining Host||4/12/2010|
|8.||Death Sonnet I||4/12/2010|
|9.||Decalogue Of The Artist||4/12/2010|
|10.||The Stranger (La Extranjera)||4/12/2010|
|11.||Those Who Do Not Dance||4/12/2010|
|15.||I Am Not Alone||4/12/2010|
|16.||The Sad Mother||1/13/2003|
|17.||To See Him Again||1/13/2003|
Let us go now into the forest.
Trees will pass by your face,
and I will stop and offer you to them,
but they cannot bend down.
The night watches over its creatures,
except for the pine trees that never change:
the old wounded springs that spring
blessed gum, eternal afternoons.
If they could, the trees would lift you
and carry you from valley to valley,
and you would pass from arm to arm,
a child running
from father to father.
To See Him Again
Never, never again?
Not on nights filled with quivering stars,
or during dawn's maiden brightness
or afternoons of sacrifice?
Or at the edge of a pale path
that encircles the farmlands,
or upon the rim of a trembling fountain,
whitened by a shimmering moon?