Estación Terminal

Crossing over the plain today I have returned to the city,
The eyes of the traveler always have anxiety.
The gauze of the rain covers the wound of the sky
And a ruby lightning
Will burn the night.

My sleepy town in the winter waited for me.
What does it turn into? What does it turn into?
What do I return to?
Am I still the same lonely
Guardian of dawns
Who once left?

I who love the sweetness of summer
Found rain.
I who so many times
Got drunk on spring,
Standing under the night, anxiety
Devours me
And above, the water lightning
Come and go.

A thousand faces cross gray under the artificial light.
The face that I loved, no one knows where it is.
The hands of the people in love
Clasp, pushing away
The harsh loneliness with love.

I would like to find again the window that I loved
And behind its glass see the shadow I left,
Cross the dark door, the staircase,
And throw between those arms
The anguish of returning.

What does one turn into after walking so much and fleeing so much?
We are born in summer and in winter is the dying.
The kiss of this rain tastes like tears:
We think of ourselves when we leave, not of love.