Edgeless night possessed by spirit mists,

And forests made from shadows,

Awakens my inconsolable pulse of longing.

Enchanted, the fragrance of love wanders

The lost village of words.

Unutterable hope, fugitive as the wind,

Enlarges all of darkness where my heart,

That blood-soaked planet, twists in unfathomed remoteness.

Exquisite agony of being

Annexes echoes from beyond the sighs of clouds.

Finally, this fabric of faith

That drapes my life, each thread of desire and belief

Stitched with time, cannot conceal my nakedness,

Empty gestures and stink of lies.