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I don't know where to put you in oblivion,
eternal wanderer of my thoughts,
like a shadow that besieges the lived,
I seek you in the echoes, I find you in the winds.
Or would it be better to condemn you in glory,
in that vain image that burns and fades?
Your laughter is a fire that tells the story,
but in every spark, sorrow gives itself away.
Close the passage of the river, come to my shore,
its waters bring murmurs and cries,
in their flow they carry the simple trace
of happy days, of broken dreams.
I was never a thief of what you offered me,
but today, in the bond of time and its game,
I claim the laughter that the air misleads,
and in memorable whispers, I chase your ego.
