A Patio
J
Jorge Luis Borges
0
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At evening
they grow weary, the patio's two or three colours.
Tonight, the moon, bright circle,
fails to dominate space.
Patio, channel of sky.
The patio is the slope
down which sky flows into the house.
Serene,
eternity waits at the crossroad of stars.
It's pleasant to live in the friendly dark
of entrance-way, arbour, and cistern.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (İspanyolca) değil, bir çeviridir.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş