Nor the greatest of prophets
would be as insane as me.
Nor the greatest of poets
would tell who I'm like Romeu.

From the mouth, it jumps verses
which carefully invade your soul,
while time follows calm
with the scattered poems.

Cecilia, through your feeling
I could find some solution
for all my suffering.

But I get sad with a memory
– that in which I was thrown to the wind...
So, the way is having no heart.