This is a poem by my favorite writer, Jorge Luis Borges. I think I made that clear already but just in case I say it again. Below the original in Spanish and my own translation to English.
LA LUNA
A María Kodama
Hay tanta soledad en ese oro.
La luna de las noches no es la luna
que vio el primer Adán. Los largos siglos
de la vigilia humana la han colmado
de antiguo llanto. Mírala. Es tu espejo.
THE MOON
To María Kodama
There is so much loneliness in that gold.
The moon of the nights is not the moon
that the first Adam saw. The long centuries
of human wakefulness have filled it
with ancient weeping. Look at it. It is your mirror.
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