Translation:

No other love comes close to ours. You sleep with me every night. You remain quiet throughout the night, never reproaching me for anything. It’s one of the reasons why you’re my dearest treasure.

Sometimes I come home drunk, brought to this point by my anguish state. I cover you with kisses as I caress you, but because you’re asleep, you don’t feel a thing. I bring you closer to me, to then fall asleep with you in my arms. I suddenly wake up and realize it’s not you I’ve been giving my love to… it’s my pillow.

I keep my pain to myself, as most people do. Sometimes I feel the urge to scream and beg you to return, or simply scream to let everyone know that I’m alive with no other purpose than to love you. Then I remember that time eases all pain; that just as is the case with words, sorrow is carried away by the wind. But as long as the wind fails to carry away mine, I’ll continue to come home drunk, and proceed to give all my love to my pillow…