I believed that just a blizzard
It would be necessary
To dissipate these shades
That clouds me today the sun,
I thought that a light gale
Of those of the autumn
It could snatch
That collection of clouds
Gray and stormy,
That has settled
In my throat and my heart,
I imagined that a blow
Of smiles to simulate
They could liberate me
Of the wave of dimness
That macerates my heart,
I thought that a blast
Of self balsamic caresses
They could rescue me
Of this vortex of darkness
That squeezes me the internal deep.
Is that I didn't know that the nostalgia
It had been coiled
In the meat of my heart,
As if ware a snail,
As if ware a screw,
That has curled
In the deep of my reason,
As if ware a ripple,
As a curl, a corkscrew,
Vicious hairspring of pain,
And that there would not never be
Tornado that is reputed of being it
Neither vortex, neither whirlpool,
Neither hurricane, thunderstorm or typhoon,
That can banish
Of my heart of man
The unmeasured shades
That you left in my breast.
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