Madrid was beautiful, but not like your eyes, that stole my sleep every night but with out you, my life hasn’t been the same, pretty much since went on, on that plane to the unknown.
Now I’m walking trough the beaches of Marbella looking for something, something I can’t find and that is you, my love, questions hunt my mind, why you decide to quit? Why you didn’t love me anymore?
Here looking at the dawn drown into the sea, another night, wondering about us, but once a gipsy man told me, if it doesn’t meant to be, the best is to let it go, so it can be.
So from Spain, with a deep pain, I say goodbye to you my love, but be careful with my love, because my heart is hanging from your hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem