A 34-year departure, Mass Opinion reminds American Poet: Carlos Pellicer Camara and shared their heartbreak, perhaps suffered . The same indifference, perhaps in the background, something you have (still) love.
Of his inspiration for you, the passionate prose of "The first sorrow has come."
The first sorrow has come
your eyes were indifferent to the mine. Your hands shook
not my hands.
I kissed you and your face was dry stone heights virgins.
Your lips locked in his prison
my first bitter useless.
in vain to put your head on my shoulder and in vain
kissed your eyes. You were cruel
oasis that poisoned the water and went mad with thirst.
And he lifted the horizon a cloud.
flew his swarthy color.
was again darkening the tone of the old days.
I left your face and my hands away yours.
My voice was silent.
silence was horrible rotten fruit.
I heard in my throat encountered defeat
with fatal stones. I
covered my eyes not to see the tears fleeing to me.
Then you kissed me, said something.
I heard my own tears mourn
in the first silence of the first sorrow.
The soul of that day came from far-your soul-
and stayed in my chest.
your eyes were indifferent to the mine. Your hands shook
not my hands.
I kissed you and your face was dry stone heights virgins.
Your lips locked in his prison
my first bitter useless.
in vain to put your head on my shoulder and in vain
kissed your eyes. You were cruel
oasis that poisoned the water and went mad with thirst.
And he lifted the horizon a cloud.
flew his swarthy color.
was again darkening the tone of the old days.
I left your face and my hands away yours.
My voice was silent.
silence was horrible rotten fruit.
I heard in my throat encountered defeat
with fatal stones. I
covered my eyes not to see the tears fleeing to me.
Then you kissed me, said something.
I heard my own tears mourn
in the first silence of the first sorrow.
The soul of that day came from far-your soul-
and stayed in my chest.
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