Sleep, little street... It's all dark... And my footsteps, who can hear? Sleep your peaceful and pure sleep, With your street lamps, with your tranquil gardens. Sleep... There are no thieves, I assure you... Nor guards to perhaps chase them... In the dead of night, as if on a wall, The little stars sing like crickets... The wind is sleeping on the sidewalk, The wind has curled up like a dog... Sleep, little street... There is nothing... Only my footsteps... But they are so light That they even seem, in the early morning, Those of my future ghost... -MARIO QUINTANA-