Close to the waves of the sea of Vigo 

					I come to remember a friend.  

					Birds shed feathers at the horizon 

					and the feathers, water from a spring 

					in Vigo, on the seaweeds 

					of the friend announce his delay.  

					From beyond comes, light as feathers, 

					the pain I do not want to lament.  

					But the svagulls fill with mist 

					the depth of my sorrow, 

					when, on the shores of the sea of Vigo 

					I come to remember a friend.