RIMA LXXI
Sleepless I wandered in that limbo
where all objects lose their shapes,
mysterious spaces that separate
waking life from sleep.
Thoughts that silently revolved
in wheeling dance about my brain
little by little reduced their pace
to a slower time.
The reflection of the light that comes to the soul
in through the eyes was veiled by the lids;
but the world of vision was lit from within
by another light.
At this point there echoed in my ears
a wavering sound, confused like that
in a church when the faithful are ending their prayers
with a firm 'Amen'.
And I seemed to hear a delicate, sad
voice that called me by name from afar
and I smelt the smell of snuffed-out candles,
of damp and fragrant incense
Night came down, and in the arms
of oblivion I fell like a stone
into her deep breast, and waking cried:
"Someone I loved has died!"
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer
Translator: Brian Cole