This afternoon it is raining, as never before; and I have no desire to live, my heart. This afternoon is sweet. Why should it not be? Dressed in grace and pain; dressed like a woman. This afternoon in Lima it is raining. And I recall the cruel caverns of my ingratitude; my block of ice over her poppy, stronger than her “Don’t be this way!” My violent black flowers; and the barbaric and terrible stoning; and the glacial distance. And the silence of her dignity with burning holy oils will put all end to it. So this afternoon, as never before, I am with this owl, with this heart. Other women go by; and seeing me so sad, they take on a bit of you in the abrupt wrinkle of my deep remorse. This afternoon it is raining, raining hard. And I have no desire to live, my heart!
From The Complete Poetry: A Bilingual Edition, by César Vallejo, Clayton Eshleman (trans.), © 2007 by The Regents of the University of California. Published by the University of California Press.