Gabriela Mistral

(7 April 1889 – 10 January 1957 / Vicuna)

Song Of Death - Poem by Gabriela Mistral

Old Woman Census-taker,
Death the Trickster,
when you're going along,
don't you meet my baby.

Sniffing at newborns,
smelling for the milk,
find salt, find cornmeal,
don't find my milk.

Anti-Mother of the world,
People-Collector -
on the beaches and byways,
don't meet that child.

The name he was baptized,
that flower he grows with,
forget it, Rememberer.
Lose it, Death.

Let wind and salt and sand
drive you crazy, mix you up
so you can't tell
East from West,

or mother from child,
like fish in the sea.
And on the day, at the hour,
find only me.


Comments about Song Of Death by Gabriela Mistral

  • Castellenas John (5/5/2019 8:53:00 PM)

    A feel of the ancient poets in the words. Powerful and worthwhile words. (Report)Reply

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  • (2/26/2019 4:14:00 AM)

    Dj akshaydjakshaydjakshay (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 3, 2012



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