---

Unlike a jewel with brilliant fire,

beautiful, but without warmth,

the desert sun sears my skin

while my soul in turmoil goes astray.

"Del luto de mi noche, mi ángel funesto,

tejió un velo pesado, tupido y denso;

más que las sombras

que en los hondos abismos eternas moran."**

(From my nightly mourning

my fateful angel knitted a heavy, thick veil.

Much denser than the shadows,

that in the deep abysses dwell.)

Find the One that loves

the sorrows of your changing face.

Echoes stray – far away.

So I bide awhile and I long for the nightfall,

when all is calm and the dreams stand still.

I count the stars in the shards underneath me

and I shall suffer if it is thy will.

So I am sworn to the dreams that I follow

deep into grief or to grief amend.

Engage a war which is so easy to start

but yet impossible to end

Lo! Th'sun burns my skin to cancer

Joshua trees admonish still

that I'm the only one here dying

feasting from my mourn so ill.

"Negóme desde entonces el sol su brillo,

¡ay!, negóme la luna su fulgor tímido,

y la esperanza no alumbró más

el yermo de mis entrañas.

Por eso todo, todo para mí ha muerto.

Mudas pasan mis horas tal como espectros.

Cabe mi oído.

Sólo se agita el soplo de los olvidos."**

(I was denied the sun’s brightness.

Oh! I was denied the moon’s glow.

The hope ceased to light up

the wasteland of my conscience.

Thus, all, all has died for me.

My hours pass silently like wraiths.

I hear only the breath of oblivion shiver and fade.)

**Desolación ~ Rosalía de Castro (1837-1885)