Without you, my only one, I was a prisoner of solitude
waking over my fate
like a listless guard.
Without you, my only one, my poems are dying in a coffin
next to the old trunk
in which my memories are,
memories that brought no joy
to anybody's heart.
While I lay there in the cold bed
like a solitary character from the saddest love
My dreams roam the unfinished verses of the saddest love
Without you, my only one, for many and many times, day and night,
I have rested my head on the same pillow
where you were sleeping all those blissful nights.
I kissed you in a dream,
I thought of You
as of a falling star
that left its trace on the face of the lonesome night,
just like You left a trace in my lonely heart.
Without you, my only one, I was but a trace without a trace,
I was a tear made of black wax;
I was but a shadow
leaving behind as much visible trace
as an abandoned orphan.
Without you, my only one, I was but a word
in an unfinished verse of the saddest love
© 2010 Walter William Safar