The Last Word

The last word of this millennium

is dying in me.

The stars rest in my deserted heart.

Sleepy constellations are tired

of the constant game.

I would like to see this world again,

but I do not have the strength

to lift my head,

look God straight in the face.

Don't teach me unnecessary love.

Don't pretend that hope is incapacitated.

Through the break in my biography,

memories that I caught in my childhood

squeeze through.

My disobedient soul is losing this fight

for fresh sun. I suffer from a lack

of naivety, it will soon be the thirty-second year

of my childhood.

Someday I'll guess where you learned

the human language.

The night, fertilized by the moon,

takes refuge in your tears.