Will the rain matter to you some day?
The blocking of regret in the soul
The abortion calmly prepared
The verses swallowed by one named Fulvia.
Scorpions will bite irremediably
The moon will miss in the almanacs
And each one suffering their ailments
Will tell the young to keep away from the middle.
Then the nights of others will be a burden
Those I wanted with that they didn’t
Those they avoided when they knew me
For those, that for being denied lied much more
Not listening what other people said
When sick they were licked their wounds.