I want to die young at the end of the day On the High Sea, with face to the sky, When agony is but a dream far away And the flight of my soul is a bird soaring by.

Let there be no sad tears as I draw my last breath, at one and alone with the sky and the sea, No sobbing, nor prayer, nor laments of death; I only would hear the deep waves cover me.

To die when the bright glow of twilight is fading, And catches the waves in its last net of light; To be like that sun as its luminous shading Expires and is lost in the arms of the night.

To die, and die young: before time has destroyed The delicate fabric illusion has spun; When life can still say:"I am yours," but the void Of a final echo tells us death has won!

- Gossamer Stories,
Manuel Gutiérrez Nájera,
Translated by John A. Crow