I would sit next to you in silence,
but I have not the courage: I’m afraid
my heart I go up to my lips.
That’s why I speak foolishly and hide
my heart behind the words.
Taken cruelly my pain for fear
you to do the same.
My pillow looks at me at night
with hardness as a tombstone;
I had never imagined that it was so bitter
to be alone
and not be lying in your hair.

(Federico Garcia Lorca)