Where do I place that which is found?
In the streets, the books,
the nights, the faces
where I have looked for you
Where do I place that which is found?
In the earth, your name, the Bible,
the day in which I found you at last
What do I tell Death,
so many times called to be at my side
that in the end she has become my sister?
What do I do with the empty glory
of acting out the lonely man,
of acting out the wolf?
What do I tell the dogs
that accompanied me in lost nights
when I had no friends?
What do I tell the Moon, whom I believed to
be my companion for so many nights,
though she was not real?
What do I do now with you?
The doves that go to sleep
in the parks no longer speak to me.
What do I do now with you?
Now that you are the moon, the dogs,
the nights, all friends.