And we go on and on,

Neither sleeping nor awake,

Towards the meeting, unaware

That we are already there.

That the silence is perfect,

And that the flesh is gone.

The call still is not heard

Nor does the Caller reveal his face.


But perhaps this might be

Oh, my love, the gift

Of the eternal Face without gestures

And of the kingdom without form!

– Gabriela Mistral

From: Gabriela Mistral – The Poet and Her Work  P.83

By: Margot Arce de Vazquez
Translated by: Helene Masslo Anderson
New York University Press