Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma
emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía.
Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma,
y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.
Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante.
Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo.
Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza:
déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.
Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio
claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo.
Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.
Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.
Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto.
Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.
Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.
I Like It When You're Quiet
I like it when you're quiet because it's like you're gone,
And you hear me from far away, even though me voice doesn't touch you.
It appears that your eyes have flown from you,
And it appears that a kiss has left you breathless.
As all the things that fill my soul
Emerge as just things, my soul is still filled.
Butterfly of my dream, you appear to my soul,
And you appear as the word Melancholy.
I like it when you're quiet, and it's like you are distant.
And it's like you're complaining, like a butterfly's lullaby.
And you hear me from far away, even though my voice doesn't touch you:
Leave me in your loving silence.
Leave me where you speak in your silence
As clear as a lamp, as simple as a ring.
You are like the night, silent and full of stars.
Your silence is a star, so far and simple.
I like it when you're quiet because it's like you're gone.
Distant and painful, as if you were dead.
One word, one half-smile,
And I am glad, glad that this isn't true.
