Oda al Doble Otono (an excerpt) by Pablo Neruda

Always occult were
the
works
of autumn
on the earth;
immobile
roots, seeds
submerged
in time
and above
only
a corolla of cold,
a vague
odor of leaves
dissolving
in
gold:
nothing.
An ax
in the woods
splits
a trunk of crystals,
afterwards
falls
the twilight
and the earth
puts to its face
a mask
of blackness.

~ from Selected Poems: Pablo Neruda (Grove/Atlantic, 1994)