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Screams and tears Imploring you to cry. Sad, the moon you looked at Looked back at you, And she begged your eyes for compassion, Those eyes of dawns entwined That hurt her every night. And you didn't cry. I do know you didn't cry . . . You offered neither a moan nor a tear. And seeing you didn't cry The fear of the white moon, I resigned my words. I resigned my meagre blue ink. Up stood the mountains Like irritated crows: The wings, open The chest, black 
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gritos y lágrimas
implorando a que lloraras. Triste, la luna que mirabas te miraba, y le pedía compasión a tus ojos, esos ojos de albas enlazadas que la hieren cada noche. Y tú no llorabas. Se que no pluribus . . . No ofrecías ni un quejido ni una lágrima. Y al ver que no llorabas el temor de la luna blanca; resigné mis palabras. Resigné mi tinta azul y magra. Se alzaban los montes como cuervos encrespados: las alas abiertas la pechera negra,  |
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