DEVUELTO RETURN
Gabriela Mistral trans. Brian Cole
A la cara de mi hijo
que duerme, bajan
arenas de las dunas,
flor de la caña
y la espuma que vuela
de la cascada ...

Y es sueño nada más
cuanto le baja;
sueño cae a su boca,
sueño a su espalda,
y me roban su cuerpo
junto con su alma.

Y así lo van cubriendo
con tanta maña,
que en la noche no tengo
hijo ni nada,
madre ciega de sombra,
madre robada.

Hasta que el sol bendito
al fin lo baña:
me lo devuelve en linda
fruta mondada
¡y me lo pone entero
sobre la falda!
On the face of my son
who is asleep, comes down
sand from the dunes,
flowers from the reeds
and the foam that flies
from the waterfalls ...

And it is a dream, no more,
how much comes down;
sleep falls onto his mouth,
sleep onto his shoulders,
and robs me of his body
together with his soul.

And so it comes covering it
with such skill
that in the night I hold
no son. Nothing,
blind mother of shadow,
a mother who is robbed.

Until the blesséd sun
bathes him at last:
restores him to me as a lovely
peeled fruit,
and puts him, whole,
into my lap!

We believe this poem is in the public domain - if anyone disputes this, please contact us. Trans. Copyright © Brian Cole 2007


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