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She used to talk in a different way from us all,
of things that were from here, but never said before
she mentioned them. She was everything:
Nature, book and love.

She would start always, like the dawn,
in an unforseen way,
so distant from everything dreamt!
She would reach her zenith, always,
like twelve o'clock, in a way
never suspected,
so distant from everything narrated!
She would keep silent, like the sunset,
in a unexpected way,
so distant from everything thought!

How distant, and how close
to me her body was! Her soul,
how distant and how close
to mine!
                    Nature, book and love.