RESIGNATION

              To...

Without tears, without complaints,
without farewells, without a sob!
We carried on until the last... fortune
brought us here with the same objective,
we both came to bury the soul
beneath the tomb of scepticism.
Without tears... tears have no power
to bring a cadaver back to life;
our flowers fall and they turn
but at least in the turning, they leave
us with dry sight and a firm conscience.
Now you see it! for your soul and mine
spaces and the world are deserts…
we have concluded both,
covered with sadness and affliction,
we’re not at the end, we’re just two corpses
in search of the shroud of forgetting.
Children and dreamers when we
barely left the cradle,
pain, still alien to our lives
slipping along sweet and serene
like a swan’s wing in a lagoon;
when the dawn of the first caress
hasn’t yet peeked beneath the veil
that the virginal ignorance of the child
extends between his eyelids and the sky
your soul like mine,
in its clock advancing the hour
and in their darknesses lighting the day,
they saw a panorama that opened
beneath a kiss and at that dawn’s light;
and feeling, upon seeing that countryside
the wings of a supreme force,
we opened them early, and early
they brought us to the end of the voyage.
We gave to earth
the tints of love, and of the rose;
to our garden nests and songs
to our heaven birds and stars;
we used up the flowers on the road
to fashion from them
a crown for the angel of destiny...
and today in the midst of sad discord
of such an agonized or dead flower
one lifts only the pale and deserted
bloom that is poisoned by memory.
From the book of life
what we write today is the last page...
Let’s close it at once
and in the sepulchre of lost faith
we will also bury our anguish.
And since heaven now concedes that
these evils are our last
so the soul can prepare to rest,
although the final tear cost us
we saw the task through to the end.
And afterward, when the angel of forgetting
has delivered these ashes
that guard the painful memory
of so many illusions smashed to bits
and of so much vanished pleasure,
we’ll leave these spaces and return
to the tranquil life of earth,
now that the night of early pain
advances toward and encloses us
in the sweet horizons of tomorrow.
Let’s leave these spaces or if you
want to, we can try out our breath,
a new journey to that blessed region
whose only memory resuscitates
the cadaver of the soul, upon feeling.
Let’s throw ourselves off this world then,
where everything is shadow and void,
we’ll make a moon from memory
if the sun of our love has grown cold;
we’ll fly if you like,
to the depths of those magic regions
and pretending hopes and illusions
we’ll smash the tomb and rising
on our bold and powerful flight,
we will form a heaven between shadows
and we will be the owners of that heaven.