One wakes up knowing
that one has dreamed about that time
when love was the pure and perfect silence
between two very attentive hearts,
when sadness existed just for writing letters,
when everything, even the most little detail of the days,
was filled with the other's magic.
One wakes up to find again
this sensation that comes as in those mortuary sunsets,
this hard and heavy sensation like fake pride,
this sensation that means and that says
that the chaotic uncertainty of keeping on journeying the days
and the tireless labor of love
will be joined forever
-or at least for the time being.
that one has dreamed about that time
when love was the pure and perfect silence
between two very attentive hearts,
when sadness existed just for writing letters,
when everything, even the most little detail of the days,
was filled with the other's magic.
One wakes up to find again
this sensation that comes as in those mortuary sunsets,
this hard and heavy sensation like fake pride,
this sensation that means and that says
that the chaotic uncertainty of keeping on journeying the days
and the tireless labor of love
will be joined forever
-or at least for the time being.
Mr Eduardo... what a beautiful image you've created on my mind...
ReplyDeleteso beautiful!!!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThe original was written in Spanish. So I tried to translate it and many problems arose: I didn't want to change the original meaning but I had to do it in order to keep some images. Actually as somebody said to me it's a quasi-literal translation.
ReplyDeleteThanks.
OOps... it is kind of difficult try to keep the same images of a writing when the original "thought" was in different language... however it sounds like a pretty good exercise... congrats!!
ReplyDelete