"You want me white" by Alfonsina Storni

You want me to be alb,

made out of foams,

made out of nacre.

You want me to be a lily

over them all, caste.

Of faint perfume.

Corolla closed

Not one filtered

moonbeam should find me.

Not a daisy

should call me her sister.

You want me like snow,

you want me white,

you want me alb.

You, who had all

the cups at hand,

of fruits and honeys,

the purple lips.

You, who at the banquet

covered in tendrils

left the flesh,

celebrating Bacchus.

You, who in the black

gardens of deception

dressed in red

ran towards havoc.

You, who preserves

his skeleton intact

I do not know yet

through what kind of miracles,

You purport me white

(God forgive you),

You purport me caste

(God forgive you),

You purport me alb!

Flee to the woods,

go to the mountain;

wipe your mouth;

live in the cabins;

touch with your hands

the wet dirt;

feed the body

with bitter root;

drink of the rocks;

sleep on frost;

renew the tissues

with nitre and water;

talk to the birds

and raise at dawn.

And when your flesh

has been turned,

and you have put 
your soul into it,

which was left tangled
through the bedrooms,
then, good man,

pretend me white

pretend me like snow,

pretend me caste.