Question

poemas en ingles de mas de 350 palabras porfavor

Answer 1

Respuesta:

Shrouded in golden leaves,

we wait.

The world doesn’t end at sunset

and only dreams

limit themselves to things.

Through a labyrinth of blank hours

time leads us on

as autumn falls

over our house, our patio.

Shrouded in a relentless fog

we wait, we wait:

nostalgia means to live without remembering

the word we are made of.

You are in need of everything:

grey roads,

deep glooms,

birds that sing even in silence;

the sky,

an autumn leaf,

hands empty,

love unreturning,

snow’s whiteness;

dawn lights,

you are in need of everything the dream requires,

to become one with the music

of the most faraway blues

so that eventually your soul

will have confidence in death.

If you are who I look for, come

in the night of lost reflections,

if you are the beloved body,

come in between trees, in between songs.

Here awaits you a time

dispossessed of fables,

a body punished by life

and the roads’ brambles.

If you are she who comes,

leave me a sign in between trees:

a white veil, a trace in the dust

will suffice in my wretchedness.

Come now that death awaits

as marvellous forest awaits death;

if you are who I look for,

come under the sky’s protection.

The afternoon I knew your death–

the summer’s purest, the almonds

had grown up to the sky,

and the loom halted in the rainbow’s

ninth colour. How, by the white rim, did

her movement go?

How was your flight by that thread woven

which gave almost the name of destiny?

Only the clouds uplifted in the light

told everybody’s writing, the ballad

of who has seen a kingdom and

another kingdom and remains

within the fable. They carried

your body, snow between dust branches

that have already heard the song and keep

peace of the nightingale among the tombs.

I shut the garden gates, the

castle’s high windows. Indeed I grudged

the troubadour, transmuting wood

to water, flower and lute, entry.

He sang his song; time has unravelled what

the Lord has ravelled, silver tapestry

already happening, moonlit wandering,

yet returning to the skein.  Alone

you may find the shape that awaits you.

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