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our sunday poem / antonio machado

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Is my soul asleep?
Have those beehives that work
in the night stopped? And the water-
wheel of thought, is it
going around now, cups
empty, carrying only shadows?

No, my soul is not asleep.
It is awake, wide awake.
It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches,
its eyes wide open
far-off things, listens
at the shores of the great silence.

By Antonio Cipriano José María y Francisco de Santa Ana Machado y Ruiz, also known as Antonio Machado (1875-1935), Spanish poet. © 1983 Robert Bly (trans).

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