In My Sky at Twilight
This poem is a paraphrase of the 30th poem
in Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘The Gardener’
In my sky at
twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are
mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of
my soul dyes your feet,
my sour wine is sweeter on your lips:
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are
mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon’s
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of
the depths of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are
taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is
born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes
of mourning the land of dreams begins.
Pablo Neruda