Daybreak
Hands and lips of wind
heart of water
…………………..eucalyptus
campground of the clouds
the life that is born every day
the death that is born every life
I rub my eyes
the sky walks the land
.
Nightfall
What sustains it,
half-open, the clarity of nightfall,
the light let loose in the gardens?
All the branches,
conquered by the weight of birds,
lean toward the darkness.
Pure, self-absorbed moments
still gleam
on the fences.
Receiving night,
the groves become
hushed fountains.
A bird falls,
the grass grows dark,
edges blur, lime is black,
the world is less credible.
.
by Octavio Paz
from The Collected Poems 1957-1987
Carcanet Books
Translation: Eliot Weinberger
.