6 Poems For Love Part 2
I want all, my love! I want to cry for you,
To fight for you like a bullied boxer, and staining your fast
Stream into an enormous spice.
I will work for that love! By the loving smell,
Where the clouds will not have an end, rather they will pass
Over the cascades that you have created in endless feast!
There, I dot not care! The pain will be gone, too,
And upon the laid field, I know, my love, I feel it and I will grow!
Love will grow too along the pine of the crimson gold!
Together, undefeated, even broken,
I will be aware that I love one, and in front of me, a world
Will open into the face of empty balm
Where I could say I love one:
A bastard! A beast! An anima!
I cannot care least!
A perfect goodbye
Even though, perhaps, tomorrow,
As a concerto of violins is departing along the clock,
My green leaves will shine away under any given morning's sun.
My love will be so delicate there. Sweet, like a red apple,
While I, walking back and forth, with my fallen arms
In this dimly room that beyond my eyes I behold the new passion,
Will tell this story that has been shattered by the frightened kisses
Who, now, even as I spoke that I am a being who have loved
In the stream, could have thoughts to the day I die.
I will be free with you, my love!
Along the meadow's line and beyond!
Night, you ask
Have you laid all the shapes
In front of me along with this terrible, ungrounded shadow,
That I identify myself with the spring?
Do not say a word because you and I,
Two shoulders that seem to weight the living time,
Roving and roving
By shifting to a sentimental ego are unknown in front of the whole spring.
Please, don't say anything else.
Just hold me, my beloved night, and when I am gazing
Into your black beautiful eyes and melting away
What you have taken from me, let me under the unquiet
Countryside to die.
Unrest, waiting moment
Minute by minute, happiness starting to close:
The color of your eyes speaking from down afar
From me where I have to go to die.
To me with a language that only you know:
Though I strapped aside the shelter,
I can see they are still blue.
As I gaze at those eyes, before they have fallen in this
Long grassland of foreplay and mounding, I remember
To be yours before; in fact, some scenes
Poured over me, swallowing me with the best start
Of this unavailingly thought.
I come from seasons
Let be it before
The summertime's night is over
And when the legendary fans arise
Making you to satisfy the hungrier moonlight.
So here you and I:
You are straightened yourself up like a dimension
By the praise song you are made of
And I, going to here and there,
Making it being so damned perfect in flame.
By love's cry
Somewhere beyond the evening light
Beyond the Eve's springtime, while I delay it till
The morning's will or over the ocean
And the roadside but you must know one thing,
I am still a being damned in love.