Brother, today I sit on the brick bench of the house,
where you make a bottomless emptiness.
I remember we used to play at this hour, and mama
caressed us: "But, sons..."
Now I go hide
as before, from all evening
lectures, and I trust you not to give me away.
Through the parlor, the vestibule, the corridors.
Later, you hide, and I do not give you away.
I remember we made ourselves cry,
brother, from so much laughing.
Miguel, you went into hiding
one night in August, toward dawn,
but, instead of chuckling, you were sad.
And the twin heart of those dead evenings
grew annoyed at not finding you. And now
a shadow falls on my soul.
Listen, brother, don't be late
coming out. All right? Mama might worry.
Back to Cesar Vallejo
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.
Comments1Wow, this poem really hit me in the feels. That part when it says "I remember we made ourselves cry, brother, from so much laughing" just brought up all these memories of me and my siblings as kids. So meaningful and touching.