Two Evening Moons

T

i

For Laurita, my sister’s friend

The moon is dead dead
— it will come back to life in the spring

when a south wind
ruffles the brow of the poplars

when our hearts yield their harvest of sighs

when the roofs wear their grass hats

The moon is dead dead
— it will come back to life in the spring


ii

For Isabelita, my sister

The evening sings a lullaby
to the oranges

My little sister sings
“the earth is an orange”

The moon weeping says
“I want to be an orange”

You can’t be — my dear — 
even if you turn pink
or a little bit lemon
How sad!
Translated from the Spanish

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