Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

sometimes i get up at dawn, and even my soul is wet.

I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy.