Look as the night slowly dies
and in the twilight of dawn
spit on the grave of that angry February
as you hold the infant of Spring.
In my eyes lives April,
who filled my days with his lies,
with silly stories and plastic hopes,
he sent me travelling on paper boats.
In the mornings I was smelling the sun,
in the sea I was looking for life,
and in my dreams I was mocking my sleep,
cause I though I was still a child.
But here I am now, later,
on the earth’s green silence.
And as my moves caress the light,
“I will be here forever”
she will whisper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem