Circe of flowing hair, noble goddess! My destiny is cruel. How was it going to be my ruin, the sirens did not sing to me.
Circe, venerable goddess! I have faithfully followed your advice. Do not tie me to the mast when we approach the island of the sirens, it would be my ruin. In the middle of the silent ocean I saw the fatal fields. They seemed like a cargo of violets wandering on the waters.Circe of flowing hair, noble goddess! My destiny is cruel. How was it going to be my ruin, the sirens did not sing to me.
Spanish version
Back to Pages of Mexican Poetry