Reply for Juan Ramón Jiménez

It was still when I saw you in the garden at nightfall —

A beggar in an art of stones —

A silhouette of God.


When did you arrive?

I recall the end of the afternoon

and a gloom of empty streets.

It was a shadow of hydrangeas that drooped like a sleeping man.


A silver hand at the open window. —

(or was it closed?)

Did you speak, or was it some pale octave of leaves?

It was windy — Your hair was black and the night was gray.


By the clock,

The window was closed. —

(or was it open?)

I crouched in the garden at nightfall:

A sleep of toppled stones…


When did I leave?

It was a shadow of hydrangeas that you saw —

No beggar in the empty streets —

No silhouette of God —


Only a black night,

Only silver hands and gray hair

In the stillness of the afternoon.