Pale September,
How far away,
The season of skies without ashes
It will soon be time to accord
The number of days
That blankets the soil
Of October
Male so tender
At the beginning of November
Has become deaf to love’s ventures
But what folly had seized me
To fall for him?
Foul December
How heavy is the sky
Do you know how the statues of salt
Have ceased waiting for you?
Pale September
Do you hear the bell that I toll?
I will love you always, a love true
I sow the seeds of love
The seasons pass, but I implore
Let us make as if they mirror ourselves
But who is this man who falls from the tower
But who is this man who falls from the heavens?
But who is this man who is falling in love?
Pale September,
How far away,
The season of skies without ashes
It will soon be time to be heard