Did I hear the twilight moaning for you,
when I got oppressed by my gray solitude?
Loving you, my stranger, has been my remorse.
Dreaming with nihilism is my way to love.
Did you hear the sonnet of this heart, so blue,
or compose the silence of my sacred world?
Because in the grassland of forbidden love
reposes the enigma that will break my soul.
Did I steal the sadness of the mellow fog?
When the sun goes down, that’s when I rise my hope,
my unique desire of being from now on
the lascivious flower in your corridor.
Did I break the mirror of the old salon,
the one with the phanptoms of my former joy.
And I wrote this poem with a pen of gold
so my love can shine even when we are gone.
17/9/1/00
Casa
Acatalepsia 