Milonga triste


You arrived through the path,
apron and loosed braids,
your black eyes reflecting,
the lightness of a full moon.
My lips hurt you
when I kissed your fresh mouth.
Your hand punished me,
but harder hit your absence.

I went back through white roads,
I went unable to arrive.
Sad with my long shouting,
singing without knowing how.
You closed your black eyes,
your face turned white,
and we took your silence
to the sound of the bells.
The moon fell in the water,
the pain hit my chest.
With strings of hundred guitars
I caught remorse.

I went back through old roads,
I went unable to arrive.
I shouted your dead name
and I prayed without knowing how.
Sadness of  having loved
your shyness on a path.
Sadness of the roads
that never saw you again.
Silence in the cemetery,
loneliness of the stars,
memories that hurt so much,
apron and black braids.



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