Poesía estadounidense: Elizabeth Bishop "Inglés - Español"

Some dreams they forgot

The dead birds fell without anyone

having seen them fly or being able

to imagine from where. They were black,

their eyes were closed, and no one

knew what kind of birds they were. But everyone

seized them and looked

up, at the recently and longly

infused sky.

Dark drops also fell. They gathered

in the channels of the roof, congregated

on the ceilings above their deeds;