we don’t know where lies come from,
your voice dissipated in distance,
but all your words remain in me,
like a ship stuck in sand.
my love, if you knew how much I miss you…
your embrace, your promises
which have faded like chrysanthemums
in the breeze of late autumn.
I don’t know who taught us how to lie,
looking at ourselves in the mirror of conscience,
with the innocence of sparrows that fly
in the light of empty mornings.
my love, my heart is calling you,
my heart is calling you to come back to life
and to color my sunsets
in bloody-blue colors.
I don’t know where forgiveness comes from,
but everything turns into sea
when we find it buried deep
in the secret chamber, where springtime dwells.