{At first she came to me pure} ... a month of poetry

At first she came to me pure,
dressed only in her innocence;
and I loved her as we love a child.

Then she began putting on
clothes she picked up somewhere;
and I hated her, without knowing it.

She gradually became a queen,
the jewelry was blinding...
What bitterness and rage!

...She started going back towards nakedness.
And I smiled.

Soon she was back to the single shift
of her old innocence.
I believed in her a second time.

Then she took off the cloth
and was entirely naked...

Naked poetry, always mine,
that I have loved my whole life.

Juan Ramon Jimenez



...And so maybe it is with a soul's journey too.