Life is leaving me ... Who knows where
the light leaves ... It stealthily
moves away from me without saying where.

The same as a friend
who leaves me without saying a word,
who leaves me alone with me.

If I ask him: Where are you going, where?
he smiles no more, placidly,
continuing to leave who knows where.

I cry at him in anguish:
Look at me here, alive, alive.
Where do you want me to follow you?
And with a faint laugh,
"You're not me!" -sufferingly he answers me.