We present this work in honor of the 95th anniversary of the poet’s death.

 

Vibrating cicada: with your lyrical efforts
summers you sang in the blue distance,
and at the trembling of your resonant wings, it shone
all the sun in my eyes and in the smiling valley.

And you were silent when you saw me on the edge of the pampas
wander, when the dying ray of the day,
with the blonde palm trees that the afternoon swayed
I had loves, and the plain taught me dreams.

Today when languid mists dressed the prairie,
My soul awaits something without knowing what it awaits:
May the sun shine, may you return and soar in the light!

Not even a cloud over the eternal wasteland…
Since you no longer sing, winter has come
and the mute mists turn the mountains gray.