El poeta dice la verdad [English translation]

I want to cry my suffering and I tell you

for you to love and cry for me

in a nightfall of nightingales

with a dagger, with kisses and with you.

I want to kill the only witness

for the murder of my flowers

and turn my crying and my sweat

into an eternal pile of hard wheat.

May the mat

of I love you you love me, always burning, never end

with decrepit sun and old moon

May what you do not give me and I don't ask of you

be for death that does not leave

even a shadow on the trembling flesh.