Two Evening Moons

i For Laurita, my sister’s friend The moon is dead dead — it will come back to life in the spring when a south wind ruffles the brow of the poplars when our hearts yield their harvest of sighs when the roofs wear their grass hats The moon is dead dead — it will come back to life in the spring ii For Isabelita, my sister The evening sings a lullaby to the oranges My little sister sings “the earth is an orange” The moon weeping says “I want to be an orange” You can’t be — my dear — even if you turn pink or a little bit lemon How sad! Translated from the Spanish