Sing the soul to the infinite moonlight,
Finite of life in night of verses,
Window of feelings immersed,
Sweet concert of blessed air.
Look at the sky itself, the grief,
Loving the breeze in a scattered tone
Free from the illusions,
Rimando the stars the verdict.
Said to the universe in its desert
Let not mourning be stopped,
And finding love reveals;
The misfortunes in total disenchantment,
Wide of hope awake
In the light where the corner was kept.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem