Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente, y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca. Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.
Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía. Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma, y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.
Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante. Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo. Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza: déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.
Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo. Eres como la noche, callada y constelada. Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente. Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto. Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan. Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto
socrates44San Fernando, Trinidad and TobagoJun 21, 2018
I like you when you shut up because you're absent, and you hear me from afar, and my voice does not touch you. It seems that your eyes would have blown you and it seems that a kiss closed your mouth.
As all things are filled with my soul you emerge from things, full of my soul. Butterfly of dream, you look like my soul, and you look like the word melancholy.
I like you when you shut up and you're as distant. And you're like complaining, butterfly in cooing. And you hear me from afar, and my voice does not reach you: Allow me to hush myself with your silence.
Let me also talk to you with your silence clear as a lamp, simple as a ring. You are like the night, silent and constellated. Your silence is from the stars, so far and simple.
I like you when you shut up because you're absent. Distant and painful as if you had died. A word then, a smile is enough. And I'm happy, glad that it's not true
Comments (2)
and you hear me from afar, and my voice does not touch you.
It seems that your eyes would have blown you
and it seems that a kiss closed your mouth.
As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from things, full of my soul.
Butterfly of dream, you look like my soul,
and you look like the word melancholy.
I like you when you shut up and you're as distant.
And you're like complaining, butterfly in cooing.
And you hear me from afar, and my voice does not reach you:
Allow me to hush myself with your silence.
Let me also talk to you with your silence
clear as a lamp, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, silent and constellated.
Your silence is from the stars, so far and simple.
I like you when you shut up because you're absent.
Distant and painful as if you had died.
A word then, a smile is enough.
And I'm happy, glad that it's not true
(courtesy Google translation)