Translation:The Black Heralds (1918)/Dregs

by César Vallejo

This evening it’s raining like never before; and,
my heart, I don’t feel like going on with life.

This evening is sweet. Why shouldn’t it be?
It’s dressed up in grace and sorrow; dressed like a woman.

This evening it’s raining in Lima. And I remember
the cruel caverns of my ingratitude;
my block of ice on its poppy,
stronger than her “Don’t be like this!”

My violent black flowers, and the savage
and enormous stoning; and the glacial distance.
And with burning oils, the silence of her dignity
will mark the final point.

That’s why this evening, like never before,
I’m going with this recluse, with this heart.

And others pass by; and seeing me so sad,
they take a little of you
in the harsh wrinkle of my deep pain.

This evening it’s raining, it’s raining a lot. And
my heart, I don’t feel like going on with life!