Cuando Me Vaya

I will leave slowly at dawn when the sun will come to fetch me early. I will leave naked, as I arrived. What you gave me fits in my hand. While you sleep, I will unravel in yours and mine what was ours and with nail strokes on the wall, I will leave written my last verse. And on the back of the terral, my boat with white sail will comb the sea. What loneliness will come to find you...? When I leave. When I leave. Moon after moon, calling me, you will descend where the blue breaks. The wind will embrace you standing, digging into the belly of the horizon. A smile will fade away, brushing the edge of the eaves. Your bitter mouth will ask... for whom do the stars shine today? And the waves will sow shells, sand, and seaweed between your feet. They will kiss them and then leave for another beach. When I leave. I will leave whistling that song that a sailor full of rum sang to me when I was a child in case I felt cold in the summer. I will leave slowly and I know that perhaps I will evoke you sadly as I round the lighthouse. Then the village will be left behind, then the day will be clearer. And on that day sweet melancholy, you will have to curl up by the hearth. Without a splinter to burn. When I leave. When I leave.