Dark Street

Don

It is dark all around me,
and the capricious winds of destiny
push me and chase me on
into even more frightening darkness,
where solitude rules,
as if it was the honest truth
that there is no place for me neither here nor there,
nor anywhere, and still,
that the thought haunts me
that I am here somehow for her sake.

This darkness can only be lightened by Your gaze,
oh, my dear, I am begging you
to show me your eyes,
so I can finally see how the sun shines
and how the most vivid flowers grow
in the great cathedral of nature.

You are dark, my street!
How many, many shadows, how much solitude
you bury into your hungry mouth.
I want to escape, I want to implore the shadows of solitude
to leave me alone, if I could only ever see
the source of my happiness, her eyes.

Step by step I am threading along my dark street
like the black earth of my grave,
I leave my capricious and gloomy moods
to the weather and the wind,
but I can't seem to escape the shadows of solitude,
the faithful muses of my destiny.

The wind passes my street and plays,
that blue shadow is listening, the stray dog
is also listening, as is his old faithful companion
in good and bad times ? hunger-.
Now I understand them too,
I understand their anger and their bitterness,
it's horrible when they tell you
that you are no human being, that you watch
the wind and the fog pass you by,
and that you feel
that your solitude makes you their company.

Tell me, dear wind,
how is it to go to Africa, China, Burma,
like a heavenly physician,
to cure many poor
and be a wonder of purity and gentleness
in that work?

You are dark, my street!
You must be the darkest
and most glorious street in the world,
because you are the street of many poets,
and wherever I may go, I promise you
that I will always remember my glorious ancestors,
and those beautiful eyes
in which each days is wonderfully fair,
and the skies are blue
just like the day I opened my eyes for the first time.