Today no one has come to inquire;

nor have they asked me for anything this afternoon.

I have not seen a single cemetery flower

in such a happy procession of lights.

Forgive me, Lord: how little I have died!

On this afternoon everybody, everybody passes by

without inquiring or asking me for anything.

And I do not know what they forget and feels

wrong in my hands, like something that is not mine.

I have gone to the door,

and feel like shouting at everybody:

If you are missing something, here it is!

Because in all the afternoons of this life,

I do not know what doors they slam in a face,

and my soul is seized by someone else’s thing.

Today no one has come;

and today I have died so little this afternoon!