Ivón

In the silence your voice trembled,
your wounded voice saying goodbye.
Then your eyes, under the black
little beaver hat
mourned our separation.

And it is this sorrow, my beautiful Ivón,
that always scratches my heart.
My youthful springs
could neither understand nor reason,
my great mistake.

Where are you, Ivón!
From street to street my love names you.
Where will you go, Ivón!
From neighborhood to neighborhood I look for you, lark.
And it seems to me that you are running away from me,
feeling terror of my shadow.
And rightly so, Ivón!
And I'm bleeding, without your forgiveness.

My chest, today it beats with emotion,
so it beat, your heart.
I remember now that its rhythm
seemed like clockwork...
That night of our goodbye
and that night for both of us
meant doom,
hallucinating from unconsciousness
I sought your presence
only later and late it was.