When I asked for the night

someone went out running and screamed.

I was afraid,

I couldn't find your eyes:

everything was covered with dry leaves.

I shouted: "Bring me the obscurity!"

and after the last firefly

fell executed by a shoe,

I saw only the smoke hanging from a wire

looking at the emptiness with astonishment.

A winged apple flew by

and the clandestine air, fugitive,

imitating the drizzle, caressed me

and, singing, cautiously brought me to

your eyes that were sleeping beside me.

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Letelier, Elias. Silence. Trans. Ken Norris. Montréal: The Muses Co., 1992.