“In the transparent Wind I held you”,
sung his soul many many times ago.
From above, ignorant of its meaning,
he has received new greening.
Sometimes, at night, the Moon shines,
answering his hearts whines.
Soon his hands won’t be empty
and his soul will find reply
in a woman’s foreigner eyes.
Inspired by profetic lights,
shadows are becoming shades
and lights are coloring his afraids,
showing how the world is great.
But he is anxious for fufillement,
as kisses are blooming in his hopes.
As sepia dreams appears in plain day,
haunting him about his broken souls,
for her, his inner sentiments plays
new lyrics in old melodies far away.
Still, he searches her smile in each smile he sees.
Some day he is going to listen to the sea
and wake up knowing finally who is she.
He’ll go after his beloved dream
in each woman he finds in front of him.
After many windy smiles in blank tease,
his eyes will be bleached by any breeze.
Once or twice he’ll silently ask her
to love him still - wherever she is,
to remember him when she smiles
- whatever she does, whenever she is.
He can’t speak the Moon’s language,
he can’t remember why the wall between them,
yet, he continues with his famous chant
hoping she can hear it, even ten years then.
By his bleached eyes he will be recognized,
and she’ll be seen as the cradle for his soul
through written pages thrown at the ocean
flowing between them, though.
