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.
1

Under the cup of the friendly palm tree, tremulous, beautiful in its fear, veiled with the magic cloak of mystery, from my soul the lady protected me. In their affable eyes that laughed at me ingenuity and love; I stretched it to my burning chest, and my happy face to yours united, your balsamic breath I breathed. Oh fugitive pleasures of ineffable joy. Who could? of time detain the furious wheel over such instants! I admired her ecstatic; to my ear a very sweet music sounded, the echo of her voice, and her smile for my soul was light. 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 contemplated you and received in your amorous fire peace and serenity! Now you looked at me to also love, and I desperately love. Fleeing you see the unfortunate object of an sterile passion, that is my torment with its actual beauty; and when renouncing your love, my soul falls in a pit in the only and eternal thing king,
2

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