A nostalgic evocation of lost youth

Where are you, my youth?
You passed by like the wind
That pain exhausts you
And does not want to let go of you
When one misfortune leaves us
It is replaced by its brother
That evil which dwells within us
Leaves me half dead
In my body it has taken root
Even the pillars of my history
are becoming fragile
It is the naive and generous being
Who often knows the source of misfortune