The vast night is now nothing more than fragrance.
1The dusk and the mountain have told me something.I have already lost that. 2The vast night is now nothing more than fragrance. 3¿Es o no esel sueño que olvidéantes del alba? 4The strings keep silent.But the music to be played knew my feeling to you. 5Hoy no me alegranlos almendros del huerto.Son tu recuerdo. 6Oscuramentelibros, láminas, llavessiguen mi suerte. 7Desde aquel díano he movido las piezasen el tablero. 8En el desiertoacontece la aurora.Alguien lo sabe. 9La ociosa espadasueña con sus batallas.Otro es mi sueño. 10ciruelo-inviernoEl hombre ha muerto.La barba no lo sabe.Crecen las uñas. 11Esta es la manoque alguna vez tocabatu cabellera. 12Bajo el aleroel espejo no copiamás que la
The dusk and the mountain have told me something.I have already lost that. Jorge Luis Borges, an Argentine writer and poet, had composed a poem titled “Seventeen Haiku.” This poem has 17 haikus, as the title suggests. Strictly speaking, these are short poems that can be read in haiku style, not haiku. This is because not all of these have a seasonal word.
Another Way I lay in silence, dead. A woman cameAnd laid a rose upon my breast, and said,“May God be merciful.” She spoke my name,And added, “It is strange to think him dead.“He loved me well enough, but ‘t was his wayTo speak it lightly.” Then, beneath her breath:“Besides” -I knew what further she would say,But then a footfall broke my dream of death.To-day the words are mine. I lay the roseUpon her breast, and speak her name, and deemIt strange indeed that she is dead. God knowsI had more pleasure in the other dream. – Ambrose Bierce