You hide your look
Behind the slow drawing
Of the smoke of your cigarette

You exhale a ambitious exercise
To love through disguise
Of being, but never being

Searches to persuade my soul
With the libertine violence of your desire
And of all my being what it remains is only
The fondness to find you

For more curious than you seem,
You do not observe nothing
And remains me to observe you

To repair your curves
To repair your skin
To repair each step and movement
That to make in this or any another place

Here, where we are,
Solely what surplus is this exchange
Of to look at to look at

It remains me, before more nothing
The state deepest of the fondness,
And to dream, in you to spill me

You hide your look
Behind this little sincere smile
Of your seductive and delicate pose
And of the slow drawing of the smoke of this your cigarette

And of this accidental meeting
What it remains me is only to observe you
Waiting that some day,
In you, I maybe will can stay