On a chilling winter night
The quill slips and icy, has to fight
I wrap my frozen heart around a shawl
And frost traps my ink which freezes too.

However, inside, my body burns with desire
Making me tremble like red hot magmatic fire
But this poor quill, alas
Numbed in this weather is exhausted already!

The flame of my candle flickers and weakens
Inspiration shows a passing fancy and she wants to be desired
I’m going to break free from this heavy inertia
But how? Everything is still and tired!

Oh cruel globe! Why is my soul so mute?
She was able to drench me in its natural artistic flood
I can’t believe in her sudden inactivity
What’s going on, I’m going numb in my blood!

Oh you my muse, spread your silky artistic veil
Over my being beseeching you to save it
Oh you, my well of inspiration and mystical words
I implore you, listen and come to my bedside, hail!

But why is everyone, Heavens, deaf to my call?
Just who is willing to hear my plea of despair and silence
No one can revive this depressing poetry and her fate
Loneliness, to the four winds I’m going to dislocate!

In a certain hour of a chilling winter night
I’ve let my writing expire at my workbench
Farewell then, poetry, fie!
In my night I fade away and nothing muffles my plight!

But with this new dawn, don’t you cry my muse
I’ll write  with you,  I’ll be in your care
And we’ll content ourselves with sweetness, laughter and schemes
I’ll once again respond to your vital needs

However, aura of happiness and joy
I simply won’t do it tonight, but finally,
Don’t fret and rest in my dreams, hopefully
Tomorrow I’ll worship you, unconditionally!

Written on August 26, 2010,
Translated on November, 13, 2017