Happy New Year, by Julio Cortazar

Look, i do not ask for much,
only your hand, take it
like a little toad that sleeps happy.
I need that door that you gave me
to enter to your world, that piece
of green sugar, of cheerful round.
Won't you lend me your hand in this night
of end of the year of hoarse owls?
You can not, for technical reasons.
Then i plan it in the air, plotting each finger,
the silky peach of the palm
and the back, that country of blue trees.
Thus i take it and hold it,
as if on it there should depend
very much of the world,
the succession of the four seasons,
the singing of the roosters, the love of the men.