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.