Original (inglés)

p. 9THE RETURN The grass was gray with the moonlit dew, The stones were white as I came through; I came down the path by the thirteen yews, Through the blocks of shade that the moonlight hews. And when I came to the high lych-gate I waited awhile where the corpses wait; Then I came down the road where the moonlight lay Like the fallen ghost of the light of day. The bats shrieked high in their zigzag flight, The owls’ spread wings were quiet and white, The wind and the poplar gave s