Love and affection

 

 

 

About affection I know by tender summer nights

 

as if I need to write a letter somewhere in a distance

 

suddenly a stranger without address

 

in depth of the moment in romance

 

to the head of my character

 

in a dream I see you suddenly

 

lover in not to mention questions in the night

 

 

 

the sweeping gestures of your Gulf stream

 

breathing the spring with new summer

 

in the silence of that homesickness

 

I am the child of the dunes

 

too small to the horizon to behold

 

too large to count the grains of sand

 

in the distance of that great desire

 

 

 

lover lend me the sadness in your eyes

 

let the land of my heart be your ship

 

the nature of your spirit a good deed

 

as long as there is hope

 

we continue to sail

 

to a country where we can be who we are

 

in order to understand the sadness

 

 

 

innocence of my dreams I can only be grateful

 

to a new dream:

 

when dew drops early in the morning bounce off the sunlight

 

it is because of love

 

and in night hours as ears are deaf

 

it is friendship that lets us know that we are people

 

people with dreams and desires

 

 

 

listen, without dreams you become old quickly

 

forgotten silence in the dark of no man's land

 


where no one is waiting in that hopeless night

 

nothing left to prove, like it's close to the familiar bed

 

the sadness cheats to comfort,  our friendship remains in my affection

 

 

 

a heart full of nostalgia on the road to nowhere in a letter

 

I don't see it happening in my attention for the sweet dark

 

it is the darkness that whispers

 

 

 

get lost, my voice speaks in short phrases

 

and I listen carefully

 

because there is no one

 

I tell about waves, seagulls above the horizon

 

 

 

come back, my voice speaks in short phrases

 

and I listen carefully

 

because there is you

 

to tell me about the endless forests, rivers and rocks

 

 

 

environment presents himself to a friend

 

in the distance stands a dilapidated farm

 

willows and pastures in the fog

 

and sometimes a bird flies under the clouds in the Ballroom

 

who knows nothing and nothing can understand

 

 

 

I take your love in my letter, I have only tenderness

 

that whispers sweet again figured out why 't began in dreams.

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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