Días oscuros

Oscuro está el tiempo, la tarde está fría;
La lluvia me azota y el cierzo á porfía.
La vid aun al césped marchito se adhiere,
Mas llévase el viento la hoja que muere:
y oscuro está el tiempo, la tarde está fría.

Declinan los años, la vida se enfría;
La lluvia me azota y el cierzo á porfía:
A glorias que fueron se adhiere la mente,
Mas barre esperanzas un soplo inclemente;
Declinan los años, la vida se enfría.

No, empero, desmayes; ¡alienta, alma mía!
El sol de repente sus rayos envía
Después que una nube robó su presencia.
Hombre eres; y es fuerza que en toda existencia
Lluvioso á las veces y oscuro esté el día.

Collection: 
Spanish
1827
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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