there are so many things,
treasures
if you please, a house, a resort
Sundays, and
Fridays,
there are places of the heart
where love used
to reign,
so many ideas, great ones,
building you an edifice of a name,
blazing lights that
announce
fame and the concomitant
fortune,
there are so many friends,
real ones too, but time is laughing
there is nothing serious
to speak of,
nothing to make you last forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem