Imaginary world where you love me,
beautiful in your girly presence
appears from the memory I did not bury yesterday.
In this land of giants
the stars that fall,
touch your lovely face,
and become the freckles that I passionalely adore.
The bottles of your scented soul,
scattered by those that hurt you,
tempt me to stay, to put you back together,
in this puzzle of a love.
Even here in dreams,
I'm jellous on the ones that were here before me,
but even if their number would have been a hundred (more)
I wouldn't stop wanting you
as a bride of my own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem