Where Are You, Maria?

Why love is called love Happiness? By what right love is asked to be welcomed? I would call it an ordeal. Pain. I would pass it into oblivion. I would banish it As I banish those poems In which I once praised it. Ok. The night is long. Like any lover that respects himself I dream about it. But in the morning when dawns pour light When she awakes. She bathes her eyes in the sky and the sea, What will I do with the dream that doesn't deserve its name? That will become the nightmare of the day?