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Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como
ausente,
y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.
Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado
y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.
Como todas las
cosas están llenas de mi alma
emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía.
Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma,
y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.
Me gustas cuando callas y estás como
distante.
Y estás como quejándote, mariposa
en arrullo.
Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza:
Déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.
Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio
claro como una lámpara, simple como
un anillo.
Eres como la noche, callada y
constelada.
Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como
ausente.
Distante y dolorosa como si
hubieras muerto.
Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.
Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.
I am glad when you are silent because it is as though you
are absent,
and you hear me from afar, and my voice does not touch you.
It seems that your eyes had flown
and it seems that a kiss had closed your mouth.
As all the things are filled with my soul
you emerge from such things, filled with my own soul.
Butterfly of dreams, you are like my soul,
and you are like the word melancholy.
I am glad when you are silent and it is as though you are
distant.
And it is as though you are saddened, butterfly of lullabies,
And you hear me from afar and my voice does not reach you:
Let me stay quiet with your silence.
Let me speak to you as well with your silence
clear as a light, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, quiet and of constellations.
Your silence is of a star, so far away and unadorned.
I am glad when you are silent because it is as though you
are absent.
Distant and painful as if you had died.
A word then, a smile is enough.
And I am glad, glad that it is not so.
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