“Why do I look at you like that so dejected,
Where is the finery of your life
and the color?
“Tell me, why do you devour yourself with sadness,
“Who?The delirious, devouring craziness
for which I was consuming myself little by little
Because loving with all the tenderness
I did not want to love the creature
that I loved.
And that's why without finery I wilt
always crying in my accursed pain,
Thus spoke the flower!...
I moaned ... it was the same as the memory
of my love.
Back To My Translations