Jose Asuncion Silva

(1865 - 1896 / Colombia)

Al Oído Del Lector


No fue pasión aquello,
fue una ternura vaga
lo que inspiran los niños enfermizos,
los tiempos idos y las noches pálidas.
El espíritu solo
al conmoverse canta:
cuando el amor lo agita poderoso
tiembla, medita, se recoge y calla.
Pasión hubiera sido
en verdad; estas páginas
en otro tiempo más feliz escritas
no tuvieran estrofas sino lágrimas.

Submitted: Friday, September 14, 2012
Edited: Friday, September 14, 2012

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