This morning in the small motorized coach
My song of the summer of my 30 years
Had gone with her.
Like a shooting star leaving behind her
A dust of perfume of my perfumed memories.
This morning on the blond haired man,
Floating my favorite color, the mauve, of my 20 years
She was leaving with him
Like the flag of the boat leaving in the wind
Farewell waves of my dresses worn once
This morning in the little child's hand
My 7-year-old raspberry scented lollipop
had gone sweet his sweet taste buds of innocence
As the pollen taken by the bee leaving on the flower
The first glimmers of my love awakening
This morning in the rays of the sun
Floating the drop of gold of my little newborn eyes
they were leaving their shrapnel on the hearts of lonely people
Like the beat of my heart leaving its noises
In the ears of those I love
This morning took my farandoles of life
For the scattered in the rivers of the clouds
Going to bring their scented sails
On the mountains of our hopes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem