To Him - Gómez de Avellaneda

No bonds withhold,—for all that held are broken;
So heaven ordained,—and blessèd be its name
The bitter chalice I have drained in token,
And now is peace with nothing more to claim.

I loved thee—but no more—not even in fancy;
Never, if I have erred, the truth be said;
O'er all the dreary years in necromancy
I throw forgetfulness,—my heart is fed.

Thou hast made riot there with breast unsparing,
Struck down my pride beneath thy blows insane,
But never turned my lips reproaches bearing
To bring a charge against thy tyrant reign.

Of weighty faults, a scourge in venging hour
Thou fill'dst thy mission here—Ah, knowst it not?—
Not thine was all the irresistible power
Which left my forces conquered and forgot.

'Twas God I sought,—unto His name be glory!—
For all is over; I regain my breath.
Angel of Vengeance! Man, it was thy story;
I see and fear thee not, nor seek thy death!

Thy sceptre fallen and thy sword-blade; rusted,
I Alas!—Is this the liberty I gain?—
I made a world of thee, in thee I trusted,—
Now life around me is an empty plain.

Be happy thou! If thou shouldst e'er discover
This poor adieu that I address to thee,—
Know that the breast wherein thou once wert lover
Holds pardon for thee and sweet charity.

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(Gertrudis) Gómez de Avellaneda (y Arteaga) (1814 – 1873) Cuba (lived mostly in Spain)
Translated by Thomas Walsh
Source: Hispanic Anthology: Poems Translated from the Spanish by English and North American Poets Edited by Thomas Walsh. G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1920.