Poemas a la muerte

Poemas a la muerte

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532

I tried to think a lonelier Thing

Than any I had seen —

Some Polar Expiation – An Omen in the Bone

Of Death’s tremendous nearness —

I probed Retrieverless things

My Duplicate — to borrow —

A Haggard Comfort springs

From the belief that Somewhere —

Within the Clutch of Thought —

There dwells one other Creature

Of Heavenly Love — forgot —

I plucked at our Partition

As One should pry the Walls —

Between Himself — and Horror’s Twin —

Within Opposing Cells —

I almost strove to clasp his Hand,

Such Luxury — it grew —

That as Myself — could pity Him —

Perhaps he — pitied me —

â—„


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