I'm scared.

I'm scared. 

The afternoon is gray and sadness
from heaven it opens like a mouth of the dead.
My heart has a cry for a princess
forgotten at the bottom of a desert palace.

I'm scared - and I feel so tired and small
I reflow the afternoon without meditating on it.
(In my sick head there is no dream to fit
just as in the sky there has not been a star.)

However in my eyes a question exists
and there is a scream in my mouth that my mouth does not scream.
There is no ear on earth that hears my sad complaint
abandoned in the middle of the infinite earth!

The universe dies of a calm agony
without the party of the Sun or the green twilight.
Agonizes Saturn as a grief of mine,
the Earth is a black fruit that the sky bites.

And by the vastness of emptiness they go blind
the afternoon clouds, like lost boats
to hide broken stars in their cellars.

And the death of the world falls on my life.
de Pablo Neruda.