Come closer to the night,
the dark roots of the trees
and stone-fed roads.
I wait;
I will await.
I will be dreaming.
Come closer to the shadows,
to my heart,
that grows on fear and hope.
I wait;
I will await.
I will be dreaming.
A barking frog;
the way the willow bends to change
and night - night’s shadows leaking into day.
Between the rooftops and the graves
the evening colours slowly break
into some whispered prayer: come home.
Come home -
come home the ghost,
come home the clay;
come home the light;
come home the day.
Come home.
Shadows of dreams
cling to the corners of eyes:
God stuff spent;
night’s leakage [...]
All of you so quiet;
moon and clouds so quiet.
A night of dreams,
perfect and still;
a story of stars
that move through the dark.
And you now beautiful as time
that stops and starts.
Night and you,
my angel shield,
so quiet -
so beautiful and quiet.
Por qué una negra noche se acumula en la boca? (Pablo Neruda)
“Another beer?” the barmaid asks.
The man doesn’t answer; he just looks at her. Moments later a glass of beer is placed in front of him. He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry; he stares into space. This is a man of deep [...]