marialp Poetry (1)

I don’t want to take flowers to your grave,
I don’t want to hide my tears in the rain
because you have come to be
such a lonely soul, such a quiet murmur
running through the trees.

As autumn comes to land on empty branches.
Will you be the whisper in the wind?
May your spirit be one with the snow?

You will be the song carried in the breeze
sang by the trees growing on the garden.
I should be very quiet if I want to hear your voice,
coming from the forest, spreading on the land
the endless weep of your soul.

I don’t want to build for you an altar,
or paint my walls with pictures
to remain me of your face,
because you decide to leave
in such an early way.

Will you come to be with me as moonlight through the darkness?
Will you be holding me when I feel
the air blowing through my hands?

There will be as well a summer
for the sun to shine my path,
and many chilly winters to freeze my hopeless heart.

As the season wave goodbye in the cycle of the year,
I just want to see your smile
and your sweet angelic eyes.

I don’t want to ask questions to your headstone,
or feel the cold stone on my skin
and cry your memory alone in my room.
Because there are promises, you have to keep,
and springs still to bloom on the fields.