Sunsets

Richard Aldington (England, 1892-1962)

 

The white body of the eveningIs torn into scarlet,Slashed and gouged and searedInto crimson,And hung ironicallyWith garlands of mist.

 

And the wind

Blowing over London from Flanders

Has a bitter taste.

Puestas de sol

El cuerpo blanco del atardecer

se desgarra y se vuelve escarlata,

tajeado y drenado y desecado

hasta volverse carmesí,

y cuelga irónicamente

con guirnaldas de niebla.

Y el viento

soplando sobre Londres desde Flandres

tiene un gusto agrio.

 

Review

We found it very original poem with a very wide literary language uses all the sensitivity and describes nature as all people do so and we should remind us how beautiful it is and in my opinion put a touch of flavor made ​​me feel many sensations, for my taste is original creative and hopefully inspiring the author has tried to express that make it (: