He who returns to what is lost
will remain standing beside the untouchable.
He who attempts to create the enchantment
will fall defeated.
He who again desires that music
let him take leave forever.
Already words will not doubt
for the time that a fly takes
to go over a lamp,
there will no longer be space.
Time passed by here, with its irretrievable cloak.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem