Poems of Gustavo Adolfo Becquer, XLI

Translated from the Spanish by Mason Carnes

I put the light aside, and sat me down
Upon the edge of the disorder’d bed;
At the blank wall I gazed, immovable,
             Mute, sombre, like the dead.

And how long was I there? I do not know;
When grief’s dull drunkenness was leaving me,
The light was out and on my balconies
             The sun laughed gleefully.

Nor do I know in those dread hours of what
I thought or what mad passions through me roll’d;
But I remember that I wept and curst,
             And that, ere morning came, I had grown old.

From Poems of Gustavo Adolfo Becquer (Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd., 1891) by Gustavo Adolfo Becquer. Translated from the Spanish by Mason Carnes. This poem is in the public domain.