«A bidueira branca / Baixo a miña ventá / Cubriuse de neve, / Igualiño que de prata. Nas súas dondas ramas / De níveo orlados / Abrollaron os acios / Como flocos brancos. E fica a bidueira / En somnolento silencio, / E arden as folerpas de neve / En lume de ouro. E indolente...»
«Another window high / Where no one’s sleeping yet / Perhaps they’re drinking wine / Perhaps they’re sitting yet / Or two hands are clasped / That will not be undone / There’s a window like that / In every single home. / Cries of meeting, parting – / You, window in the nig...»
«Night in my own vast town — night / I slip the sleeping house — take flight / Others take me for daughter, bride / Yet I know only — night. / The July wind brushes my path before / A song from someone’s window — hardly at all / And now the wind will blow — till dawn / T...»
«There is a beauty in your wine's dark stream, / In wholesome bread that's rising in the oven, / A woman that you see in anguished dreams / And joyously possess once waiting's over. But how to stake a claim on sunsets' tint, / When silence's joined by an unearthly mercy, / The sky is slowl...»