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The wondrous band that's on the stand
awakes the twenties' wind,
and blows up high the frosty ribbons
of the slender girl through whom time never passes.

And silent, quiet, lovely, and apart,
she looks with vague and graceful eyes
upon a spring that is no longer here
—so far, so far away the twenties.

Oh, do not gaze into my room, look at the stand,
try not to see this empty page,
but turn around to where the music sounds, the breeze
that blows among the dusty laurel curtains!

For time in you forever stands so still.


Eliseo Diego
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