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To the Star of Venus

By Jose Maria Heredia Cuba (1803-1839) Translated from the Spanish By Georgina Heredia Brandt

Star of the quiet afternoon, passive and pure light of hope and love, health I say to you. In the sea of the West already reposes the vast forehead of the sun, and you in the heights of the sky rule by itself. Now the somber night wants to throw its diamond veil, and with pale letters bathes the soil the soft light of the dying day. Happy and placid hour so beautiful! You presided, evening star. I love it, star of peace. Always your aspect on the quiet solitude inspires me meditations of love and virtue. What delightful effects excites in the sensible hearts the sweet and melancholic memory of its lost good and of its glory! You inspired it. How many, how many hours you saw shine serene over my face in Cuba… When sticking out its pure and timid disc in the sky, to my tender delirium gave rein in the center of the embalmed forest, and guided by its warm brightness I looked for it in my solitary route.
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my soul falls in a pit in the only and eternal thing king. Oh fugitive pleasures of ineffable joy. Serene hours of its memory face was enough to mitigate of a painful existence the sorrows! Star of the afternoon! How many times next to my sweet friend you looked at me I saluted your arrival. I stretched it to my burning chest. tremulous.Under the cup of the friendly palm tree. and her smile for my soul was light. I contemplated you and received in your amorous fire peace and serenity…! Now you looked at me to also love. and I desperately love. to my ear a very sweet music sounded. Who could? of time detain the furious wheel over such instants…! I admired her ecstatic. veiled with the magic cloak of mystery. and when renouncing your love. beautiful in its fear. and my happy face to yours united. your balsamic breath I breathed. Fleeing you see the unfortunate object of an sterile passion. 2 . that is my torment with its actual beauty. In their affable eyes that laughed at me ingenuity and love. the echo of her voice. from my soul the lady protected me.

3 . and from crying the impious luck that forever separates her soul from mine.of loving her.