the hours rise up putting off stars and it is
dawn
into the street of the sky light walks scattering poems
on earth a candle is
extinguished the city
wakes
with a song upon her
mouth having death in her eyes
and it is dawn
the world
goes forth to murder dreams . . . .
i see in the street where strong
men are digging bread
and i see the brutal faces of
people contented hideous hopeless cruel happy
and it is day,
in the mirror
i see a frail
man
dreaming
dreams
dreams in the mirror
and it
is dusk on earth
a candle is lighted
and it is dark.
the people are in their houses
the frail man is in his bed
the city
sleeps with death upon her mouth having a song in her eyes
the hours descend
putting on stars . . . .
in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems.
Suscribirse a:
Enviar comentarios (Atom)
2 comentarios:
(creo que no llego mi comment, haber si me sale igual ...)
me toco conocer a cummings al tiempo que descubria a nan golding, en un libro suyo. mejor accidente no podia ser.
Hola! Oye perdón, acabo de ver que tenía un comentario tuyo jaja duh! Muchas gracias, sí yo también descubrí una edición en la que la traducción era muy buena :D. Nos seguimos leyendo, ahorita checaré tu blog. Un saludo
Publicar un comentario