Cartas a Mariel

Letters to Mariel, written on cigarette paper
Simple and plain
Weeks that go by
Distant from her skin
And the wine brings the gray
Portrait of yesterday

And I cry in a corner
Like a weak woman
What as a man in the end
I couldn't achieve

The table and the tablecloth
Where I drew
Hilmar's face
Maybe a little sad

The smoke is thick there
Life in a slip
Escapes between the eyes
There in that corner
Suddenly in the heart
I felt it so empty
And I wanted to hold on to womanly tenderness
That were no longer mine
And I think where are you?
The fog in the city
Unveils its anxiety
A ship that sails away
To think that being there
I never went to the docks

'Hilmar' is with me
Starts to recite
At 'Fanny's' table
Don't think about living
Smile and says like this:

'Death is so lonely
Here in this city
Life is like you
Who loves a woman
And wants the light
To go out and hold on
To that fleeting night
And then to know
I look at the clock
And through the window
The new day appears'

And it's sad to wake up
More alone than yesterday
The warmth of your skin
Is far from me
The pillow is empty