César Vallejo

“ And my mother walks over there in the gardens
savoring a taste now without taste.
She’s now so soft,
such a wing, such an exit, such love.
There’s solitude in the home without quarrels,
without news, without greenery, without childhood.
And if this evening anything is shattered
and descends and rustles,
it is the two white paths, curved.
Through them my heart goes on foot.
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