El Corazón Destrozado de Francisco Quevedo

It's scorching ice
It's frozen fire.
It's a wound that hurts
And is not felt.
It's a dreamed-of good.
A present evil
It's a brief rest
Very tired.

It's a neglect
But with care
It's a coward
With the name of brave.
A solitary walk
Among the people.
A wish only
To be desired.

It's a freedom
Imprisoned,
A vice that takes over
The mind.
A disease that grows
If cured,
Eternal return
Towards the twenties.

It's damn love
Like the abyss,
The temptation
To the contrary of itself.
An irresistible attraction
Towards nothing.