Soneto para acabar un amor

He quemado el pañuelo, por si acasose pudiera tejer de nuevo el lino.Le sobra la mitad del vaso al vinoy mas de media noche al cielo raso.

Tenía que pasar esto. Y el casoes que estando yo siempre de caminoy estando tú parada, no te vi y nome ha cogido el amor nunca de paso.

Puede que salga a relucir la historiaporque nunca se acaba lo que acaba,que se queda a vivir en la memoria.

Echa a andar el amor que te he tenidoy se va no sé dónde. Donde estaba.De donde no debiera haber salido.

• Sonnet at the End of Love
• Manuel Alcántara (bio) and Mark C. Aldrich

I have burned the handkerchief, just in casethis soft linen should sew itself again.Half less the glass of wine might contain,And half again less visible deep space.

This had to happen. And so at facevalue it's this: I'm always on the train,you at the station. It's all in vain;I didn't see you, but this love I still chase.

Perhaps this story in the end may shinebecause endings to an end never come,but find new life when memories entwine.

The love I felt for you has walked away,but who knows where she 's gone. Where she came from.That place from where she never should have strayed.

Manuel Alcántara

Manuel Alcántara, born in Malaga in 1928, is a poet and newspaper columnist. Among his books are Manera de silencio, El embarcadero, Plaza Mayor, Ciudad de entonces, Anochecer privado, Sur, paredón y después, Este verano en Malaga, and Travesía (Antología poética, 1955-2004). His newspaper columns have been published in four collections: Los otros días, Fondo perdido, Vuelta de hoja, and Málaga nuestra. As a poet he has been distinguished with the National Literature Prize, among other awards. As a columnist he has received the three principal awards of Spanish journalism: the Luca de Tena Prize, the Mariano de Cavia Prize and the César González-Ruano Prize He has been awarded an honorary degree from the Universidad de Málaga, is a Favorite Son of Malaga, and has received the Medal of Andalusia.