On the streetcar between two stations in the stars
I contemplated this girl reading ,
she didn\'t see me ,really ?
She was on a moon known only to her ,
the door closed on the bold traveler ...
I could\'nt read the title of the book
whose lines occupied all her thoughts ...
was she in love ? Fleeting sentiment ...
And I wasn\'t in love with an ephemeral mystery ?
Beautiful young girl your role was merily to appear
in my shadow theater ...
And my desire for you ,a play performed
between two stations of life and only figuration ...
I wandered through your dream in end of day format,
a ray of sunlight illuminating your features
so modest and discret ...Pallor from elsewhere ...
But who was this unknown author ?
I am a guy who often travels in strange dimensions,
but never approaches the girls on the streetcar ,
to find out the writer\'s name ...
You closed the book ,leaving it on the seat
as now useless witness ...
returning to your beyond after a visit
to the world of the living ...
The novel was written on blank pages ...