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(7 April 1889 – 10 January 1957 / Vicuna)

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Dusk

I feel my heart melting
in the mildness like candles:
my veins are slow oil
and not wine,
and I feel my life fleeing
hushed and gentle like the gazelle.

Submitted: Monday, April 12, 2010


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Comments about this poem (The Stranger (La Extranjera) by Gabriela Mistral )

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  • Stephen Loomes (6/13/2013 5:23:00 PM)

    Heart melting, life fleeing, leaving gazelle scat on the floor with all this tangle of mixed metaphor

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