Tarde

From every love I had I have wounds,
wounds that don't close and still bleed.
Mistake of having loved blindly,
killing uselessly the joy of my days.
Late I realized that in the end
one lives the same pretending,
late I understood that the illusion
destroyed itself by wanting...
poor love that keeps suffering
the most relentless torture.
And now that it's not the time for anything
your loving mouth incites me once again.
And even if I want to love you, I can't anymore,
because inside my soul I'm afraid.
I'm afraid it will happen again
the comedy that has sunk me into suffering...
I gave you everything, I lost everything!
I always gave my whole soul,
anyway enduring affronts,
that in the end
left me without faith.