I outlined your figure;
I wanted to make a drawing of your shadow
on the sand of the beach.
I have sketched your eyes, your mouth,
your silhouette.
Gusts of wind will shift the lines,
the fragile lines I have drawn.
Later the sea will come
to erase your presence
with its mantle of oblivion;
I hope it will also
erase my nostalgia.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem