White doves and dark herons

Rubén Darío

My cousin Inés was blonde like a German. We were raised together, since we were very young, in
the house of the good grandmother who loved us very much and made us see each other as siblings,
watching us carefully, making sure we didn't quarrel. Adorable, the little old lady, with her
large flower dresses, and their curly hair styled like an old marquise of
Butcher!
Inés was a little older than I. Nevertheless, I learned to read before she did; and
I understood -I remember it very well- what she recited from memory, mechanically, in
a shepherd play, where I danced and sang before the baby Jesus, the beautiful Mary and the
Mr. San José; all with the joy of the simple older people of the family, who
They laughed with honeyed laughter, praising the talent of the little actress.
Inés was growing up. I was too, but not as much as her. I had to enter a school, in
terrible and sad boarding school, to dedicate myself to the dry studies of high school, to eat the
classics plates of the students, to not see the world -my world and my home, my
grandma, my cousin, my cat, -an excellent Roman who rubbed affectionately against
my legs and filled the black suits with white hairs.
I left.
There at school, my adolescence awakened completely. My voice took on tones.
faltering and hoarse; I reached the ridiculous period of the child who turns into a young man. Then, by
a special phenomenon, instead of worrying about my math teacher, who does not
never managed to make me understand the binomial theorem, I thought, -still vague and
mysteriously, - in my cousin Inés.
Then I had deep revelations. I learned many things. Among them, that kisses were
an exquisite pleasure.
Time.
I read Pablo and Virginia. The end of the school year arrived, and I went out, on vacation, quickly as
an arrow, on the way to my house. Freedom!
My cousin, -but, holy God, in such a short time!- had become a complete woman.
I found myself somewhat embarrassed and a bit serious in front of her. When she addressed me,
Word, I would smile at him with a simple smile.
Inés was already fifteen and a half years old. Her hair, golden and shining in the sun, was a treasure.
White and slightly poppy-like, her face was a Murillo-esque creation, if viewed from the front.
Sometimes, contemplating her profile, I thought of a superb Syracusan medal, of a face.
of a princess. The dress, short before, had descended. The bosom, firm and fluffy, was a
hidden and supreme daydream; the clear and vibrant voice, the ineffable blue pupils; the mouth
full of the fragrance of life and the color of purple. Heal and virgin spring!
Grandma welcomed me with open arms. Inés refused to hug me, she reached out to me.
hand. After that, I didn't dare to invite her to the games from before. I felt shy. And
What! She must have felt something for me. I loved my cousin!
Inés would go to mass with her grandmother on Sundays, very early in the morning.
My bedroom was next to theirs. When the bells rang, their sound...
morning call, I was already awake.
I heard, with attentive ear, the sound of the clothes. Through the slightly open door, I saw the couple leave.
I spoke out loud. Near me passed the rustle of my grandmother's old skirts,
and Inés's outfit, flirtatious, fitted, always revealing to me.
Oh, Eros!

Inés...
¿...?
And we were alone, in the light of an Argentine moon, sweet, a beautiful moon like those of
country of Nicaragua!
I told her everything I felt, pleading, stammering, throwing out the words, sometimes fast, sometimes ...
contained, feverish, fearful. Yes! I told him everything: the dull and strange agitations that in
I experienced near them, love, longing; the sad insomnias of desire; my
fixed ideas on her, there in my school meditations; and I repeated it like a prayer
sacred the great word: love! Oh!, she must joyfully receive my worship.
We would grow more. We would be husband and wife...
I waited.
The pale celestial clarity illuminated us. The atmosphere brought us warm scents that
I was imagined as suitable for passionate loves. Golden hair, eyes
paradisiacal, lips blazing and slightly parted!
Suddenly, and with a pout:
-Look! the nonsense...
And she ran, like a happy cat, to where the good grandmother was, praying to the quiet one.
their rosaries and responses.
With the outrageous laughter of a mischievous student, with a whimsical air:
-Hey, grandma! she told me...
Well, they already knew that I had to "say!"
With her laughter, she interrupted the prayer of the elderly woman who remained thoughtful, stroking the...
accounts of your rosary. And I, who saw everything, from afar, cried, yes, cried
bitter tears, the first of my disillusionments as a man!
The physiological changes that were happening in me, and the agitations of my spirit me
deeply moved. My God! Dreamer, a little poet as I believed myself to be, to
begin the buzz for me, I felt my head full of illusions, my lips of verses, and my
my soul and my pubescent body were thirsty for love. When would the sovereign moment arrive?
in what would a celestial gaze illuminate the depths of my being, and that in which it would tear apart the
veil of the alluring enigma?
One day, in full sun, Inés was in the garden, watering wheat, among the bushes and the
flowers, which he called his friends: some white doves, cooing, with their pouches
snowy and lovingly musical. He wore a suit - whenever I have dreamed of her
I have seen it with the same bluish-gray, with wide sleeves that revealed almost entirely
the satin alabaster arms, her hair was tied up and damp, and the hair
ruffled with its white and pink nape, it was like curly light to me. The birds were around it
around currucuqueando, and they printed on the dark ground the carmine star of their
legs.
It was hot. I was hidden behind the branches of some jasmine bushes. I was devouring her with the
eyes. Finally, the gentle cousin approached my hiding spot! She saw me trembling, my face flushed
makes, in my eyes, a bright and rare flame, and caressing, and began to laugh cruelly,
Terribly. Well! Oh, that was not possible. I quickly launched myself in front of her.
Bold, she must have been formidable, when she took a step back, scared.
I love you!
Then she laughed again. A dove flew onto one of her arms. She pampered it by giving it
wheat grains between the pearls of her fresh and sensual mouth. I got closer. My face
was next to yours. The naive animals surrounded us. A confusion troubled my brain.
invisible and strong with a feminine fragrance. Inés struck me as a beautiful dove and
humane, white and sublime; and at the same time full of fire, of ardor, a treasure of
I said no more. I took her head and gave her a kiss on one cheek, a quick kiss,
furious passionate burning. She, somewhat annoyed, fled. The doves
they were startled and took flight, making a dull noise of wings over the bushes
trembling. I overwhelmed, I remained motionless.

Soon I would depart for another city. The white and blonde dove had not, alas, shown to
my eyes the dreamed paradise of mysterious delight.
Burning and sacred muse for my soul, the day was to come! Elena, the graceful, the cheerful,
she was the new love. Blessed be that mouth, which murmured for the first time nearby
of me the ineffable words!
It was there, in a city by the shore of a lake in my land, a charming lake,
full of blooming islands, with colorful birds.
The two of us were holding hands, sitting on the old pier, beneath the
the glaucous and dark water splashed musically. There was a twilight
caressing, one of those that are the delight of tropical lovers. In the sky
opaline, there was a peaceful clarity that diminished until it changed into tones of
dark violet, on the eastern side, and it increased turning into rosy gold in
the deep horizon, where the last ones vibrated obliquely, red and fainting
sun rays. Driven by desire, my adored one looked at me and our eyes
They said fiery and strange things. In the depths of our souls, they sang in unison.
intoxicating like two invisible and divine philomelas.
I ecstatically watched the tender and fiery woman; with her chestnut hair that caressed
with my hands, her cinnamon and rose-colored face, her Cleopatra-like mouth, her gallant body
and virgin, and I heard her voice soft, very soft, that told me affectionate phrases, so low,
as if they were only for me, perhaps fearful that the evening wind would take them away.
Fixate on me, their Minerva eyes flooded me with happiness, green eyes, eyes that must
Always pleasing to the poets. Then, our gazes wandered across the lake, still full
of vague clarity. Near the shore, a large group of dark herons stopped.
that when the day is hot, they arrive at the banks to scare away the crocodiles, who with the
wide open jaws drink sun on the black rocks. Beautiful herons! some
they hid the long necks in the wave or under the wing, and resembled large spots of
vivid and rosy flowers, mobile and calm. Sometimes one, on a leg, would smooth itself out.
with the beak the feathers, either remained motionless, sculptural or hieratic, or various
they took a short flight, forming in the background of the green-filled riverbank, or in the sky,
whimsical drawings, like the flocks of cranes on a Chinese parasol.
I imagined myself next to my beloved, that from that country in the heights, the herons would bring me.
many unknown and dreamy verses. I found the white herons to be more pure.
and more voluptuous, with the purity of the dove and the voluptuousness of the swan, graceful with
their royal collars, similar to those of English ladies who are alongside the little pages
curls are seen in that painting where Shakespeare recites at the court of London. His
alas, delicate and white, evoke fading nuptial dreams, all, -well
says a poet, - like chiseled in jasper.
Ah, but the others had something more charming for me! My Elena was appealing to me.
like them, with their cinnamon and pink color, gallant and gentle.
The sun was already disappearing, dragging all its opulent purple of the eastern king.
flattered the beloved tenderly with my oaths and sweet, warm phrases, and
together we continued in a languid duo of immense passion. We had been until then two
dreamy lovers, mystically devoted to one another.
Suddenly, as if drawn by a secret force, in an inexplicable moment, we
we kiss on the mouth, all trembling, with a kiss for me most sacred and supreme: the
first kiss received from the lips of a woman. Oh, Solomon, biblical and royal poet! you said it
like no one: Honey and a lake under your tongue!
That day we dreamed no more.

Ah, my adorable, my beautiful, my beloved brown heron! You have in the memories
deep things that form in my soul the highest and most sublime, an immortal light.
Because you revealed to me the secret of divine delights, in the ineffable first instant.
of love!

2010 - All rights reserved

Allowed for use without commercial purposes

Join asvolunteerodonorto promote growth and dissemination of the

If you notice any type of error, or would like to make a suggestion, we ask you to visit
the followinglink. www.biblioteca.org.ar/comment