The Harp by Gustavo Bécquer

| from Spanish by Cheryl Corey

Obscured by corner shadows, gathering dust, perhaps
forgotten over time -- there stands the silent harp.

So many hidden notes entombed on muted strings,
which like a bird asleep upon a steadfast bough,
await the snow-white hand who makes their music sing.

Alas! So too, I’ve often thought, the spirit sleeps.
It waits, like Lazarus, deep within the soul, until
it hears a voice--the Lord’s command: “Arise and walk!'

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