The Angel Of Numbers Poem by Rafael Alberti

Virgins with set-squares
And compasses, watching over
The heavenly blackboards.
And the angel of numbers,
Pensive, flying
From 1 to 2, from 2
To 3, from 3 to 4.
Cold chalk and sponges
Streaked and erased
The light of deep space.
No sun, moon or stars,
Or the sudden green
Of lightning and thunder,
Or air. Only mist.
Virgins with set-squares
Or compasses, weeping.
And on the dead blackboards,
The angel of numbers,
Lifeless, shrouded,
On the 1 and the 2,
On the 3, on the 4...