The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved him, and sometimes he loved me too.

On nights like this, I held him in my arms.
I kissed him so many times under the infinite sky.

He loved me, sometimes I loved him
How could I not have loved his large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have him. To feel that I've lost him.

To hear the immense night, more immense without him
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep him .
The night is full of stars and he is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without him.

As if to bring him near, my eyes search for him .
My heart searches for him and he is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
My voice searched the wind to touch his  ear

Someone else's. He will be someone else's. As he once
belonged to my kisses.
His voice, his long body. His stormy ocean eyes.

Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held him in my arms,
my soul is lost without him