when i step from this door
i wish everything are still the same: like trees in a row
towards the avenue
towards the boulevard and to the horizon of moon and sea
i wish the coldness does not get colder this time
for i have not brought everything thermal with me
i have gotten old and so unwise to think that i am still loved.
i guess i am not that strong anymore to face the cold to brace
the night of this anguish
oh, how time has changed me for the worse
my health has failed and my arms are of no use to this struggle
the moon has waned and the stars have disappeared
the darkness surges in like a disease incurable
and so i have decided to go back to my old house
and as i close this door behind me
i have decided not to think of anyone else
not you this time, but just me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem