Delmira Agustini

O you who sleep so deep you cannot wake!

Every night in mourning I come upon your pupils,

Miraculous in life, miraculous in death,

And in life and death eternally open.

Beneath a remnant of shade or silk lace of moon,

I drink their calm as I would a lagoon.

For depth, for silence, for goodness, for peacefulness.

Each one seeming a bed or a tomb.

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