You, a memory of loneliness, a single word
wandering the mountain ridges of my brain
over steep cliffs descending into cold ravines.
Like a leopardess tormented by hunger,
it moves swiftly without leaving a trace.
The word tells me:
it doesn’t want to disappear into emptiness
as if it'd never existed. It wants me to see it, to track it
like a hunter, and find it in the memory,
and speak its name aloud.  But I really don't know
where to put it.  Word, where can I place you
in this world?  This world that's not even mine,
a world of politicians, a world of businessmen.  
I'm walking here as if on a knife's edge, or in a maze.
It's a maze indeed.  
Television and newspapers all teach us rules,
the ins and outs of games. Everyone says
you need money to be happy, to have dignity.
I see the doors on the great maze opening wide.
I don't want to enter.  I'd rather
face a single flower, a bird, a star.  I'd rather
shut myself in this room
I'd rather let you, word... disappear.