Paloma ausente [English translation]

Five are the nights I cry

In the paths

Five are the written letters

Taken by the wind

Five are the black kerchieves

They are the witness

Of the five sorrows

I have inside me

Absent Dove

White Dove

Blooming Rose

I spend whole moons

Looking at the sky

With only one wish

On my mind:

That it doesn't comes down hurt

My dove

The one that comes molten

To the elements

It says, in a paper written

With green ink,

That with some patience

Everything can be reached

One that got it

Went to dance

From its garden to the Ark

Of the Covenant

A cage in the air

Is coming down

With all its bars

Of calamity

All the little birds

Are trilling

Although that, I can tell apart

My Swallow

I'm going to put on

A buttlefly's suit

Tomorrow, when it arrives

My dove

In the fingers, flags

Of three colors

And in the eyelashes, thousand

Of small candles.