What was it...?
She left the world without saying anything!
The heartbeats in her chest ceased,
without her voice getting to my ears,
sad, like a sacred altar song.
In her disarrayed and mournful bedroom
her memories remained scattered,
similar to feathers in a nest,
when the wind shakes the canopy.
God, for whom not a mystery exists,
alone would be able to answer
this question, that I ask in vain:
"Her last thought, when, dying,
she squeezed my hand and her gaze
held mine; what was it?
Translated by José Wan Díaz
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