Poemas a la muerte

Poemas a la muerte

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We grow accustomed to the Dark —

When light is put away —

As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp

To witness her Goodbye —

A Moment – We uncertain step

For newness of the night —

Then — fit our Vision to the Dark —

And meet the Road — erect —

And so of larger – Darkness —

Those Evenings of the Brain —

When not a Moon disclose a sign —

Or Star — come out — within —

The Bravest — grope a little —

And sometimes hit a Tree

Directly in the Forehead —

But as they learn to see —

Either the Darkness alters —

Or something in the sight

Adjusts itself to Midnight —

And Life steps almost straight.

â—„


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