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Return

I can guess the flicker
of the lights in the distance,
marking my return.
They are the same that illuminated,
with their pale reflections,
deepest hours of pain.
And even though I didn't want to come back,
you always return to your first love.
The quiet street where the echo said:
"Her life is yours, her love is yours",
under the mocking gaze of the stars
who today see me return with indifference.

Return,
with a wrinkled brow,
the snows of time
have silvered my temples.
To feel, that life is but a breath,
that twenty years is nothing,
that feverish gaze
wandering in the shadows
seeks you and names you.
To live,
with the soul clinging
to a sweet memory,
that I cry for once again.

I am afraid of the encounter
with the past that returns
to confront my life.
I am afraid of the nights
that, filled with memories,
chain my dreaming.
But the traveler who flees,
sooner or later stops his journey.
And even though forgetfulness that destroys everything,
has killed my old illusion,
it keeps hidden a humble hope,
which is all the fortune of my heart.