do not misunderstand me
when i speak of death.
forgive me, it is a poet who lives here,
someone in love with life,
but a book is not a book
without its final page.
therefore
my life is empty
without death.
i want only to hear the rain,
to understand why this land
weeps transitory tears, why
she tolerates so much fickle wind.
i want only the majesty
the sea will allow me to abide.
i was born by her side.
i live by her side.
forgive me, but when my terminal wave
departs, i will die beside her.
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