For those who've heard the night's heart by auscultation
in your endless insomnia, there's a closing door,
a pa**ing carriage, whose loud reverberation
echoes until you cannot hear it anymore.
In those moments with their mysterious silence,
when those you've forgotten break free from their prison,
when you should sleep, but the dead a**ert their presence,
you'll understand these lines and their bitter vision.
Like an empty gla** in which I pour my sorrows,
my distant memories, misfortunes, and disgrace,
the nostalgia that my soul, drunk on flowers, knows,
and my heart forever mourning, undone by fêtes...
The burden of not being what I could have been,
and losing the kingdom that was ready for me,
or never being born with a chance to begin
living after my birth, my life, this reverie!
Through the deepest silences, here is all I'll know:
night enfolds the earthly realm where illusions start,
and I feel like the world's heart, feel like its echo
as it penetrates, moves, and touches my own heart.