Your silhouette stands out in the harbor because the moon
Around you is a halo that eliminates
Your steps: strong from having lived, you walk towards the waters,
Troubled. And I sail to your left. And you do not see me. There is so much mist

And fresh cables that annoy the port,
As in our memory feelings and times
Intertwine with a hundred faces; serene residents
Of a hundred other ports and a hundred other lives

We should die under the iron bars
Of the cloudy morning that wants to die of love
In this strange hour the calm and strong boats
Without a sound come to bump these quiets passengers