BERCEUSE FOR A MIRROR SLEEPING
Sleep.
Do not fear the gaze
that wanders.
Sleep.
Not the butterfly
or the word
or the furtive ray
from the keyhole
will hurt you.
Sleep.
As my heart
so you,
mirror of mine.
Garden where love
awaits me.
Sleep without a care,
but wake
when the last one dies
the kiss on my lips.

Federico García Lorca
Translation by A. S. Kline
Note: A berceuse is a French cradle-song