A lamp out beyond reason,
another lamp lost without realization.
In this gray September sky I met you
with a drop of rain falling on my forehead.
You were a lamp of the old ones, intermittent, who know how to warm you while basking in their own melancholy.
You turned on my feelings, while I could only start the engine of your car.
It's still September, and another drop falls on my forehead,
no light now, it's pitch dark; but that glimmer of light hidden behind your memory, I still see it.
Maybe it's an illusion, I've been blind for ten years.