To One Sick - José Asunción Silva

So you go too? So you’re weak?
So you lack the breath of life and thirst
For the pure air, the wild auroras?
Then look: In purple afternoons,
In the clear ember of mornings,
In the humid mists roped like
Candles at the foot of the mountain,
In December’s blue skies,
In the verdancy where life sings,
In those sweet poems that murmur
Under shadows and along cascades that hit
The stones and become strands of intangible
Silver: Look and you will find new life,
Colour rushing again to your cheeks,
Smiles travelling again to your mouth,
And dreams like a child’s to your soul.

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José Asunción Silva (1865 - 1896) Colombia
Translated by Robert Fernandez
Source: inTRANSLATION