That diaphanous pale light
of this timid dawn lingering
over the somnolent morning
of your omnipresent absence
unconscious and so innocent
comes to shadow my whole being
and my deaf-mute, deep nothingness
and to vibrate the strings of my heart
like a lonely scarlet violin shattered
into a thousand colors eternally agonizing
and shimmering in transparent twilight
of the blind horizon in the evening sadness
through my evanescent dreams vacillating
between reality and illusion that softly fleet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem