I will lift the vast life
That even now is your mirror:
Every morning I will have to rebuild it.
Since you left,
How many places have become vain
And meaningless, the same
To lights in the day.
Afternoons that were niche of your image,
Music in which you always awaited me,
Words from that time,
I will have to break them with my hands.
In what hollow will I hide my soul
So that he does not see your absence
That like a terrible sun, without sunset,
Shine definite and ruthless?
Your absence surrounds me
Like the rope to the throat,
The sea to which it sinks.