translated from the Spanish of Julio Herrera y Reissig
Supper is over – vegetables, brown bread
and grapes still resplendent with virgin dew.
Supper has been supped, prayers have been prayed,
the old man has finished an amenable anecdote,
and the group puts on their party clothes
with act-the-goatish pleasure.
Lydia runs in circles around the room.
Lux sings. Palemon walks on stilts.
Everyone is laughing,
Grandma calls for quiet: “Silencio!”
Near the blind old man, Anonymous, the dog,
lowers his guide dog eyes, intimate and frank.
Now that they can all hear the sound of chestnuts
jumping in the fire, their pure hearts beat in unison.
Meanwhile, in the generous silence outdoors,
emaciated fields turn white with the cold.
The moon casts a serene, snowy light;
and the lake shakes with a milky shiver.