There are some who say
That all roads lead to Rome
And it's true because mine
Carries me every night to the space that names you
And I talk to it and set it free
A smile, a blasphemy, and two defeats:
Then I close your eyes
And sleep with your name kissing my mouth.
O, my love,
How terribly absurd it is to be alive
Without the soul of your body, without your heartbeat,
Without your heartbeat.
Because the end of this story,
The millionth autobiography of a failure,
Doesn't serve you as an example,
Someone states that love is a miracle
That there's no evil it doesn't cure
But neither does it last a hundred years,
That almost saves it,
What's evil are the the nights that soak my hand.
Though everything is nothing now
I don't know why you hide and run from meeting me
I don't think it breaks any commandment
To know about your life
Hatred is so terrible
That you don't even dare to show me your scorn
But you don't pay attention to me
What's happening to me is that I don't understand this world.