Que Nadie Se Entere, by Alejandro Dolina

Let no one find out that love has reached you.
Let no one suspect that your heart is drifting
in a fog of its own restlessness
in constellations of despair.

Allow not a soul to console you,
for there is no comfort for this grief.
Allow not a stranger to defile your sorrow;
a love that remains hidden will grow in solitude.

Refuse to wait for the cold hand of oblivion,
or the faithless miracle of some other love.
That first heartbeat will return a thousand times
and recreate your world of secret pain.

And when the years have shed the leaves
of all the rose trees of your youth,
there will grow, in silence, unbeknownst to all,
one final kiss in your lightless night.

Shooting stars of all your dreams,
in a dark sky with not a dawn in sight.
All our loves are a liar’s memories,
blurred recollections of a false yesterday.

Offers that were never oaths,
promises that no one ever heard.
The sorrows of a harbor
boatless, sealess.

(translated by me)