There was not farewell

There was no farewell!

For her, which in my soul I carry conceals.

For her, which does not arrive, and would not come.

There was no farewell!

because, in the calmness of my anxiety it has escaped.

There was no farewell!

Only fatigue of love, sadness, like ash of an extinct fire.

An idea suspended in the air is my last exile.

Out of my memoirs, already is night.

There was no farewell!

the ideas are flying fugitives, dragging me, like oscillating silhouettes.

What thirst I have of you!

Of your soft hands in the darkness of the night.

What thirst I have of you!

Of your look as star, like the moonlight, as sea in calm.

Awakened from this reverie, I'm still here!

As usual, an empty room,

Without your laughter, without your essence; without you!

What thirst have of you!