The dream, by Pierre Puvis de Chavannes
Antonio Machado

And He Was The Evil Spirit Of My Dreams

And he was the evil spirit of my dreams, the most handsome
of all angels. His victorious eyes
shot file like pieces of steel,
and the flames that fell
from his torch like blood
lit up the deep dungeon of the soul.
 
"Would you like to come with me?" "No, never! Tombs
and dead bodies frighten me."
But his iron hand
gripped my right hand.
 
"You will come with me..." And in my dreams I walked
blinded by his red torch
And in the dungeon I heard the sound of chains
and of beasts stirring in their cages.
 
Translated by Robert Bly
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