What thing than the lily unstained is more white?
More pure than the mystic white taper so bright?
More chaste than the orange-flower, tender and fair?
Than the light mist more virginal-holier too
Than the stone where the eucharist stands, ever new,
In the Lord’s House of Prayer?
By the flight of white doves all the air now is cloven;
A white robe, from strands of the morning mist woven,
Enwraps in the distance the feudal round tower.
The trembling acacia, most graceful of trees,
Stands up in the orchard and weaves in the breeze
Her soft, snowy flower.
See you not on the mountain the white of the snow?
The white tower stands high o’er the village below;
The gentle sheep gambol and play, passing by.
Swans pure and unspotted now cover the lake;
The straight lily sways as the breezes awake;
The volcano’s huge vase is uplifted on high.
Let us enter the church: shines the eucharist there;
And of snow seems to be the old pastor’s white hair;
In an alb of fine linen his frail form is clad.
A hundred fair maidens there sit robed in white;
They offer bouquets of spring flowers, fresh and bright,
The blossoms of April, pure, fragrant and glad.
Let us go to the choir; the novice’s prayer
Propitiously listens the Virgin so fair;
The white marble Christ on the crucifix dies;
And there without stain the white tapers rise white;
And of lace is the curtain so thin and so light,
Which the day-dawn already shines through from the skies.
Now let us go down to the field. Foaming white,
The stream seems a tumult of feathers in flight,
As its waters run, foaming and singing in glee.
In its airy mantilla of mist cool and pale
The mountain is wrapped; the swift bark’s lateen sail
Glides out and is lost to our sight on the sea.
The lovely young woman now springs from her bed,
On her goddess-like shoulders fresh water to shed,
On her fair, polished arms and her beautiful neck.
Now, singing and smiling, she girds on her gown;
Bright, tremulous drops, from her hair shaken down,
Her comb of Arabian ivory deck.
O marble! O snows! O vast, wonderful whiteness!
Your chaste beauty everywhere sheds its pure brightness,
O shy, timid vestal, to chastity vowed!
In the statue of beauty eternal are you;
From your soft robe is purity born, ever new;
You give angels wings, and give mortals a shroud.
You cover the child to whom life is yet new.
Crown the brows of the maiden whose promise is true,
Clothe the page in rich raiment, as fair as a star.
How white are your mantles of ermine, O queens!
The cradle how white, where the fond mother leans!
How white, my beloved, how spotless you are!
In proud dreams of love, I behold with delight
The towers of a church rising white in my sight,
And a home, hid in lilies, that opens to me;
And a bridal veil hung on your forehead so fair,
Like a filmy cloud, floating down slow through the air,
Till it rests on your shoulders, a marvel to see!
De Blanco
(Manuel Gutierrez Najera)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Life Poems, Light Poems, Nature Poems, Fairness Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Christianity Poems, Flowers Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Home Poems, Beauty PoemsBased on Keywords: blanco, enwraps, mantilla, alb, orange-flower, goddess-like, lateen, propitiously