In the night - Joaquín Arcadio Pagaza

It seems like noon, so bright the lustre shed
On the damp forest by the moon's white glow.
The breeze scarce moves yon oak tree to and fro,
That mid a thousand others rears its head.

O'er Zempoala, on an azure bed,
The evening star rests just above the snow,
And dimly in the fields the brooklet's flow
Shows like a silver ribbon far outspread.

The heavens shine; the hoophoe's note of pain
Sounds on the mountain, and the echoes send
Its wail across the broad plains plaintively.
Phyllis, come follow me, for I would fain
Enjoy this night; shut up the cot, my friend;
Upon the hillside I will wait for thee.

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Joaquín Arcadio Pagaza (1839 - 1918)
Translated by Alice Stone Blackwell