We shall never be like brothers.
Hearts passionate if they stayed
As the clear dew of the morning,
Under the closed eyes, potion saint.
But the thoughts in hem which bitterly weigh
Shy cathedrals veiled in fog
And crazily ascend to a tempestuous kernel
Led by the need of searching a face,
Truly they will not lie, truly they will put
The belief in better support to the being.
Never, even if I beg you, no, do not tell me
What water is this one which is sinking me now
Which coldness burns the first silence,
Because never, soul, we never be like brothers
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