I ve seen her in my gardens

I’ve seen her in my gardens that inspire
my soul. The moonlight occupied my thought
I’ve seen her when she watched a baby’s cot
and Lust has grabbed the mane of desire.

I’ve seen her when she preyed. Oh self-denier,
in shadows, at the altar, in a coat,
a lily flower, pale and devout,
illuminated with the sacred fire.

I will not see her, nor the light of day.
My soul is in the space of ghostly reign,
the moonless gardens, passionless decay.

The flower withered, chill and calm remain.
The voices are already far away.
My heart is pierced by needles of sharp pain.

       * * *

[Yo la he visto pasar por mis jardines …]


Yo la he visto pasar por mis jardines
cuando mi alma era luz de la luna.
Yo la he visto mirar hacia la cuna
donde Lujuria se muerde las crines.

Yo la he visto rezar en la penumbra,
en el altar de los sacros martirios,
azul y palida como los lirios,
con la luz de mi pecho que le alumbra.

Nunca mas la vere pues ya mi alma
entro en el reino del placer sombrio,
jardln sin luna, sin pasion, sin flores.
 
Marchitose la flor y que do en calma
mi ilusion. Ya lejano el vocerio,
el corazon penetro en los dolores.
 
[10 de enero, 1918]