“Dregs” by César Vallejo

 

It rains this afternoon, as never before;

and I have no zest for life, heart.

The afternoon is sweet. Why should it be not?

Dressed in grace and sorrow; dressed womanly.

It rains in Lima this afternoon. And I remember the

cruel caverns of my ingratitude;

my block of ice on her poppy,
stronger than her "Don’t be like that!"

My violent black flowers, and the barbaric

huge stone thrown, and the glacial distance.

And the silence of her dignity will put

with burning holy oils an end to all.

So this afternoon, as never before, I will go

with this owl, with this heart.

And other women passing by, and seeing me so sad,

they take a dash of you

in the abrupt crease of my deep remorse.

It rains this afternoon, it rains a lot. And

I have no zest for life, heart.