The Extinguished and the Alive

There, where the night bows its mournful face to the sea,
And the moon cuts the black waves with silver,
I walk – a shadow of oblivion – with a knife in my throat,
Which strikes the heart once, exhausting itself in the abyss.

O, my heart – a banner, scorched by fires,
It laughs at fate and weeps without consolation,
I am an exile from the borders of my own dreams,
Where sin is honor, and honor – the gardens of pain.

There was youth there, like wings, light and crimson,
Flying into my sorrow… a burning arrow,
But time, casting a dusty cloak, vanished in an instant,
And the wind merged with the voice, disappearing into the night.

My love is a storm that curses and begs for peace,
It searingly covers the soul and destroys all that is,
Yet I will not abandon it – better an eternal battle,
Than to erase from memory even one of its echoes.

And if the world tramples the ardor of my hopes,
And if darkness comes – like a friend without words,
I will preserve within me a fire, alien and ardent,
That shines for the darkness – extinguished, yet alive.