Antonio Machado

“ And all the field remains
a moment mute and dark,
thinking. The wind sounds
through the river poplars.
The evening darkens more;
and the path winds
and weakly whitens,
becomes cloudy and disappears.
My song begins to wail:
“Sharp golden thorn,
who will feel you once again
in the heart hammered shut.”
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content. ”