Time and abyss vaults
don't have samples of your beauty;
and no sculptor chisel the same
concept of your form and your face.
Attracted by false magnetism,
we seek and don't find your fleeting
palace. . . and the occultism's lantern
has not shown you in your proximity.

Do you hide in a starry night?
or do you dwell in deep atom?
once discovered, will you be a died out blaze?
or a new flame from an unheard-off world. . .

or sky light in earthly lanterns?. . .
or swamp star from bogs?

Translation by: Ramon Cabrales