Silence
Alfonsina Storni
One day I will be dead, white as fallen snow,
sweet as the drifting dreams of a rain-soaked afternoon.
One day I will be dead, cold as any stone,
still as what is forgotten, sad as the clinging ivy.
One day I will have reached the dusk-lit dream,
the beloved dream where the road comes to its end.
One day I will have slept a sleep so long
that not even your kisses can rouse me from its heaviness.
One day I will be alone, as the mountain stands alone
between the endless desert and the sea that washes it.
It will be an afternoon filled with celestial gentleness,
with birds gone silent and wild clover in the fields.
Spring, rosy as an infant’s lip,
will enter through the doors with its fragrant breath.
The rose-hued spring will lay upon my cheeks
—the rose-hued spring—two yellow roses…
The gentle spring that once placed roses,
crimson and white, in my soft hands.
The gentle spring that taught me to love you,
the very spring that helped me win you.
O the final afternoon I imagine in my death,
like a ruined city, ancient and deserted!
O the afternoon like the still yellow hush
of a lagoon beneath the moon’s ray!
O the afternoon intoxicated with perfect harmony:
how bitter is life, and how straight the path of death!
Death the just one, leading us into forgetfulness
as a wandering bird is welcomed into its nest.
And into my eyes will fall a kindly light,
the sky-blue radiance of the final hour.
A sifted light descending from the heavens
that will set upon my eyes the sweetness of a veil.
A sifted light that will cover me entirely
with its impalpable shroud, like a bridal veil.
A light that will murmur softly in the soul:
life is a cavern; death is the open space.
And it will dissolve me in slow and total calm,
as foam dissolves on a golden shore.
O silence, silence… this is the afternoon
when my blood no longer runs nor burns.
O silence, silence… around my bed
your beloved mouth gently calls my name.
O silence, silence, whose echo-less kisses
lose themselves in my trembling, withered soul.
O silence, silence, as the afternoon stretches on
and lays its sadness in your bitter tear.
O silence, silence, as the birds fall quiet,
the flowers grow drowsy, the vessels cease their voyage.
O silence, silence, for a star has fallen
softly to the earth, softly and without sound.
O silence, silence, as night draws near
and hides itself in my bed, whispering, moaning, pleading.
O silence, silence… as silence touches me
and dims my eyes, and stills my mouth.
O silence, silence… as my hands release their calm,
their fingers thinning, slowly, one by one.