To Jośe Marίa Palacio
Palacio, good friend,
is spring there
showing itself on branches of black poplars
by the roads and river? On the steeps
of the high Duero, spring is late,
but so soft and lovely when it comes!
Are there a few new leaves
on the old elms?
The acacias must still be bare,
and the mountain peaks snow-filled.
Oh the massed pinks and whites
of Moncayo, massed up there,
beauty, in the sky of Aragon!
Are there brambles flowering,
among the grey stones,
and white daisies,
in the thin grass?
On the belltowers
the storks will be landing now.
The wheat must be green
and the brown mules working sown furrows,
the people seeding late crops,
in April rain. There’ll be bees,
drunk on rosemary and thyme.
Are the plum trees in flower? Violets still?
There must be hunters about, stealthy,
their decoys under long capes.
Palacio, good friend,
are there nightingales by the river?
When the first lilies,
and the first roses, open,
on a blue evening, climb to Espino,
high Espino, where she is in the earth.
Antonio Machado's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (To Jośe Marίa Palacio by Antonio Machado )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(01 January 1950)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963)
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