My pain and its mistress

When at day's end you let

the tears flood your weary face,

a storm arose in my heart

and I fled, abandoning you to the night.

Now the slow and heavy waves

of the vast nocturnal sea

lift their rising plea to the somber firmament.

Where are you, lonely weeper of the night?

On the waves I see my pain rise before me,

pale and drooping, and this other one at its side,

its mistress, paler and drooping farther,

is the pain of your heart, my love.

The wind from the land pushes

both of them toward this cloudy star

floating on the horizon, barely above the waves.

Oh, sweet night!