Always looking back at you
from the other side of the street,
I never really forgot
how to love you.
...
Because I won't dream something more beautiful
than death
I'm giving you my dream, the way I can,
folded on a page, making use of you, the best I can,
...
Holding her hand
through all the hospitals,
I found it
a kind of love
...
I wanted to go somewhere with you
and somehow we ended up on the beach
with my hands in my pockets.
...
You, to desperately fill
my solitude, to feed me with
your laugh, to touch me where
the shadows clung to my soul,
...
I've been
too ashamed to tell the truth,
to tell you that I love you,
and now, instead of the ocean
...
You're always changing something:
your lipstick, your perfume,
the color of your hair.
You don't seem to understand
...
I find her in silence
close to the window
on the edge of a chair,
with her stare galloping
...
Without you,
I'm making love to an empty bed
putting myself
your lipstick on my skin
...
It has become boring, to live,
I wonder if death, is also boring.
Perhaps I should try, killing myself
like a japanese warrior.
...
motto:
'Don't be human, they are too cruel for their hearts.'
To thank my haters, and the girlfriend that left me
...
You've shown me just how physically love can be,
and how lustfully a kiss should be.
Since then I have lost it all.
I lost my mind inside your heart,
...
Am asteptat destul, sa te intorci.
E timpul, poate, sa merg si eu mai departe,
si sa pun mana pe visele ce le visez
in lipsa ta,
...
They look at you and see
great fires, your dreams.
And it scares them. They are
ordinary. All of them.
...
He always thought of making a horse
out of something else than wood
a horse that would speak his words
and act as himself, a proper horse
...
Your letters change so little.
I hoped that if you know me
who I was and what I'm planing with my life
soon they would stop arriving at my door.
...
'Long ago, those words of yours, freed me from the shackles of fate.')
I Have So Many Stories To Tell You
Always looking back at you
from the other side of the street,
I never really forgot
how to love you.
Running after the same things,
I write to you on the bark of the trees
that bloom in the spring
in front of your house.
In the park, after you leave,
I sit alone on the bench you have rested
and mark the spot
with an X.
I take pictures of your footprints
and put them in frames on the walls of my room.
I walk behind you and inhale
the air that touches your lips.
I carry sandwiches with me, that I eat
at the same time with you, from the distance,
pretending we're on a date.
And for desert I fight the dogs for the bagels you throw.
I light bonfires and wave to you
pretending I'm Robinson Crusoe
and you Europe. I drink for the sole purpose
of having bottles in which to keep my promises.
I build wooden horses,
and leave them at your door,
pretending you are Helen of Troy,
and your cat is Paris.
When people speak to me, I just nod.
I keep all my words for you.
I sit on rooftops and watch the rain
kiss your shoulders, pretending I am the rain.
and sometimes in the bus stop
when you are not looking
I lay down on the ground behind you
and grasp the hand of your shadow.