I will raise the vast life
that even now is your mirror:
every morning I will have to rebuild it.
Since you walked away,
how many places have become vain
and without sense, the same
to lights in the day.
Afternoons that were niche of your image,
music that always awaited me,
words of that time,
I will have to break them with my hands.
In what hollow will I hide my soul
so I do not see your absence
that like a terrible sun, without sunset,
Does it shine final and ruthless?
Your absence surrounds me
like the rope to the throat,
the sea that sinks
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