Away, away she's passed, oh Lord

by Ángel Cruchaga Santa Maria, Chilean poet (1893 - 1964)

 

Translated from the Spanish by Roberto Hope

I will erect a cupola

embittered with my sobbing,

and will hurl to the skies

just like two darts, my eyes,

and these hands I will burn 

that her countenance fondled.

Away, away she's passed, oh Lord

and I've been left with no one!

That these my injured veins

be opened to the Autumn,

veins that acquired the perfume

of her melancholic feature!

Never again my life will

be lifted on her shoulders.

Away, away she's passed, oh Lord

and I've been left with no one!

Toward what exotic ocean

can her golden sail be heading?

Toward what star does the flame

of her countenance aspire?

and now in this very night,

who on her eyes will a kiss plant?

Away, away she's passed, oh Lord

and I've been left with no one!