Until the hour of the yellow sunset
How often have you watched
The powerful Bengal tiger
Going and coming on its predestined path
Behind the iron bars
Without suspecting they were his jail.
Then other tigers would come,
The fire tiger of Blake.
Then other golds would come,
The love metal that was Zeus,
The ring that every nine nights
Begets nine rings and these, nine,
And there is no end.
Over the years they were leaving me
The other beautiful colors
And now I only have left
The vague light, the inextricable shadow,
And the gold of the beginning.
O sunsets, O tigers, O glares
From myth and epic,
Oh, a more precious gold, your hair,
Which these hands crave.
How often have you watched
The powerful Bengal tiger
Going and coming on its predestined path
Behind the iron bars
Without suspecting they were his jail.
Then other tigers would come,
The fire tiger of Blake.
Then other golds would come,
The love metal that was Zeus,
The ring that every nine nights
Begets nine rings and these, nine,
And there is no end.
Over the years they were leaving me
The other beautiful colors
And now I only have left
The vague light, the inextricable shadow,
And the gold of the beginning.
O sunsets, O tigers, O glares
From myth and epic,
Oh, a more precious gold, your hair,
Which these hands crave.
