Leaves have covered your grave overnight,
Winter sighs.
Listen, dear, listen, there,
You are mine!
Laughing you in a light-hearted dress.
The Moon ascends!
Mine – undoubtedly, indisputably --
As my hand.
Every morning, at the hospital’s entrance, I stand,
Wait for you.
But you’ve gone to the South Sea Isles,
haven’t you?
I have kissed you, conjured you,
I laugh at the tomb!
I don’t trust that you’re dead,
I expect you back home.
Let the leaves cover soil,
Let the words fade from stone…
If the world deems you dead,
I'm with you in a tomb!
I observe you, I feel you,
Despite your demise!
Won’t forget you as long
As the sun has to rise!
… I’m aware of such promises
Given in vain,
Just a note to eternity,
Left without aim.
(C) 2006
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