Trece Planetas

Black sorrow, love sickness.
Magical curse.
You were my downfall;
witch, why me?

Bad luck hit me; what can I do.
My star left.
My will was nullified,
thirteen planets mark my bad luck.

I am touched.
Even my shadow flees from me.
I asked the wind
and silence answered:
If you want to name her,
let your tongue be a rattlesnake,
if you want to invoke her,
let your fingers be of laurel.

To sleep embraced by you,
to mess up your red hair.
To sleep entangled in you,
in your body that now tangles the wind.