Today from the Aurora´s bosom
A pink has fallen — a crimson blossom;
And oh, how glorious rests the hay
On which the fallen blossom lay!
When silence gently had unfurled
Her mantle over all below,
And crowned with witner´s frost and snow,
Night swayed the sceptre of the world,
Amid the gloom descending slow,
Upon the monarch´s frozen bosom
A pink has fallen, — a crimson blossom.
The only flower the Virgin bore
(Aurora fair) within her breast,
She gave to earth, yet still possessed
Her virgin blossom as before;
That hay that colored drop caressed,—
Received upon its faithful bosom
That single flower, — a crimson blossom.
The manger, unto which ´twas given,
Even amid wintry snows and cold,
Within its fostering arms to fold
The blushing flower that fell from heaven,
Was a canopy of gold,—
A downy couch, — where on its bosom
That flower had fallen, — that crimson blossom
|
Luis de Góngora y Argote, 1621 |
