In blessed silence vegetates the place;
The wax-faced virgins sleep in their attire
Of vivid velvets and discoloured wire
A marble yawn the dried-up font would trace;
Their sneezes and old women in the choir;
And in the sun-shaft dust the flies aspire,
As though 'twere Jacob's ladder for their grace.
The good old soul is starting at her chores
She shakes the poor box, and in reverence pours
To find how the St Vincent alms are going.
Then, here and their, her feather duster hies
While through the vestry doorway come the cries
From out the barnyard and the gallant crowing.
Julio Herrera y Reissig (1875 - 1910) Uruguay
Translated by Thomas Walsh
Translated by Thomas Walsh
Source: poesi.as
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