1. Fifty passed... I did not want to bid her farewell
She left and abandoned her belongings in my hands

2. I was a boy and my age was an idea
She whispered to a palm blaming its arm:

3. September died without shedding a tear
It settled the tents so it suited its nature

4. The boy grew up and became a gentle sea
It carried the stranger and shaded her sails

5. But when her heart blossomed
She left, and gave an excuse for questioning

6. So the mirror answered: Wait, I am not
The home of faces, and am not accustomed to deceiving her

7. How often has something heedless courted me
Trembling in obedience to pebbles and obeying them

8. And now I go towards my death as a poet
Who possessed life in a moment...and lost it