In Lima … In Lima it is raining

the dirty water of a pain

so deadly. It is raining

through the leak in your love.

Don’t pretend to be sleeping,

remember your troubadour;

for I now understand … understand

the human equation of your love.

Tempestuous and meretricious gem,

the witchery of your “yes”

thunders on the mystical flageolet.

More, the downpour resounds

the coffin of my path,

where I ossify for you …