THE GUEST
Against the huge black door o the night
twelve knocks resound.
Men sit up in their beds :
fear glides over them with icy scales.
Who can it be ? Through the houses
fear slips unsandalled.
Men see the flame of their lamps
blown out by the clamorous knocking:
the unknown guest is calling,
and a thin blue flame runs along their eyelids.
Jorge Carrera Andrade
Translation by H. R. Hays