Who Knows If you leave, my love, you will carry me with you and I will remain behind, singing of the kisses I gave to you. I will be a spring without reflexes, in the street, empty: I will be rain, a dark bird; a portable barbershop that frightens with its camouflaged funeral parlour. I will be everything that is spit upon and despised; but you, my love, without me... I don't dare to say it: already, it hurts my soul.    Castellano Français      No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher or, in case of photocopyng or other reprographic copying, a licence from Canadian Reprography Collective (Cancopy), 1 Yonge Street, Suite 1900 Toronto, ON M5E 1E5 Canadá. Ph 800-893-5777 / (416)868-1620 /Fax:(416) 868-1621. -- U.S. requests should be sent to Copyright Clearance Center, Inc. 222 Rosewood Drive Danvers, MA 01923 USA. Ph. 978-750-8400 / Fax 978-750-4470