How strangely desire presses
and how distant our agreement shows up today,
so many miles away, and it seems so hard to reach!
How I used to love that glance!
Even slitting my reverie from the top to bottom
I always have my eyes wide open.
I'm silently proposing a toast to hold out.
And we don't even know our names,
we don't ignore our excesses,
but your mere presence
makes me sick and empty,
and with a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you.
And every day asks its night
what it would do in the former's disguise.
Nodding without having understood
that those hands were besieging me.
Tell me: would you like to draw a winged house?
Dawning, some hazy winks,
turning over fearing to look back.
And we don't even know our names,
we don't ignore our excesses,
but your mere presence
makes me sick and empty,
and with a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you
when I realize how one can be emptied.
And with a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you.
And we don't even know our names,
we don't ignore our excesses,
but your mere presence
makes me sick and empty,
and with a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you
when I realize how one can be emptied.
And with a cry of hope
I say good-bye to you.