If i Were a painter,
I' d try to steal the sky,
that flies between your golden lips;
there is
the real desire to love,
to love the idea of a life above this life,
to understand the true sense
of a flower that walks through my eyes,
to give new freshness,
to my dancing thoughts.
In a corner of my soul,
I always hear singing birds,
that want to reveal me,
that I may be a melody
for myself and for all the persons around me;
little treasure,
I looked for you in all the books of the world,
but I didn't understand,
that you lived in me,
in all the times in which
my pen embraced my fingers,
and falled in love of a simple sheet of paper,
to be able to listen through you,
the voice of the nature;
you are the field,
in which I find my best fruits,
you cannot be only a woman,
you called yourself life.
How can I think you really,
for the caresses of every day?
Come here, sitting in front of me,
and tell me why the time,
wanted to make your gift just to me;
tell me the words
that you want to hear from me,
and I'll try to create in your moments
the image of eternity.