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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?

 

Or beneath the forest's

luxuriant, raveled tresses

where, calling his name,

I was overtaken by the night?

Not in the grotto that returns

the echo of my cry?

 

Oh no. To see him again --

it would not matter where --

in heaven's deadwater

or inside the boiling vortex,

under serene moons or in bloodless fright!

 

To be with him...

every springtime and winter,

united in one anguished knot

around his ****** neck!

g
Written by
Gabriela Mistral
1889-1957 / Chilean
Lines·Words
23·117
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