I'll pick you up this evening, be in elegant clothes, a little daring, put the most beautiful jewelry that you have and wait for me while the sun is out. I'll pick you up this evening, I will be as elegant as you want me, with the bowtie that you liked so much, and I will run to be on time. We will go by the river so dear to us, and there I'll tell you those words I still have not told you. But if I do not find you to the appointment so searched, I shall accept that I had only a dream, from which I must arise.
If you could give me a caress every time a butterfly lands on a flower, If you could keep one of your hands betweenmine wich are seeking an outlet, if you would just tell me a few words more of your silence, or walk with me although if divided by a thin glass, I could feel the life come back young with you, that young you were for me, leading me where the love is but often it leaves.
In the sky has gone off a star. I took everything with me to go and rekindle it. The star is far away, I'll have to outrun more than the light to reach it in time. But in the darkness of the Universe the thrust of love will permit me to arrive before that the last ray of light is extinguished forever. And the star will shine again as before to be seen in every corner of the human universe. No matter if I will burn in its light, I will be proud of its splendor dedicated to who have rekindled it.
In the dark of the night I come secretly to watch your sleep often agitated. In the shadow of your body illuminated by the Sun I enter by stealth to look at you smile while you work every day. Under the gusts of wind is I who will stop your hair and I gather them on head like a flower . And on rainy days, the umbrella in the shape of heart that protects you it's mine. Wherever you are, I will be with you.
Let the door of your heart remains open to my coming, allow your heart to accept yet my attention, grant that your soul listening to my words, opening your innermost a little more with me, making illusion I'm still something for you
It is raining, walking along the road allowing drops to flow down my face, as your tears of when you wept knowing that I should go away from you. It is raining, but I do not mind the wet, because every drop for me is a caress from you wordless, flowing on the cheeks to give me relief and pleasure. It is raining, I open the umbrella to protect we both from the storm of the life.
It's the color of the Aurora Borealis, what I see in your eyes while I kiss you. It's the sound of waterfalls mountain, what I feel in me when I hold you. Your breasts are barcanes of the desert in motion, caressing your skin like marble. Your voice seems the sound of a Burmese Harp, wondering love. And I lose myself, in that your immense heat, that burns my senses but destroy the heart, because you're not here, to turn off together the flames of our passion.
Beloved shore of that river who silently listened our things good or bad, helping us to feel within us that stimulus to move forward knowing what awaited us. Beloved banks of the river whichnow hear my pains, letting me know that iflove it was, then love remains, just need to wait that day when it will repeat the same song on the same boat.
That stretch of the river, where the rake of the water never passed, and ducks nested, while we were hugging each other to look at them, I found it in the river next to the house, where in general the swans are to nest in. But this time I found only a lonely swan, that roamed the waters in search of the companion someone took her away.
