Since long ago we haven’t seen,

and I can feel how I forget

to keep your memory alive,

how die your hair and all of that.

I have been seeking everywhere

a decent place you could be dropped;

a kiss, to put and leave you there,

a note, a verse, a waterdrop.

If there’s no grave for you to lie,

no marble bar, no crystal-morg,

should I, half dead and half alive

continue carrying you for more?

If there’s no place for you to stand,

a field or flowerbloom I’ll find,

where like a polen, soft as sand,

I will defuse you in all wide.

I’ll while you maybe just like that,

than kiss you for a last goodbye.

To know could we or not forget,

won’t be no one, nor you and I.