Comparece ante mí la belleza
en forma de canon
tenaz, empedernido, perfecto, limpio, concreto.
Libre de escrutinios imprecisos
se escapa como humo,
en la proporción gentil.
"I left a woman waiting
I met her sometime later
She said, I see your eyes are dead
What happened to you, lover?
What happened to you, my lover?
What happened to you, lover?
What happened to you?
And since she spoke the truth to me
I tried to answer truthfully
Whatever happened to my eyes
Happened to your beauty
Happened to your beauty
What happened to your beauty
Happened to me."
"I left a woman waiting"
Leonard Cohen.