[ugo]

My feelings that speak from my sweet and romantic heart and sitting close to a beautiful woman, and with hand in the hand, and with childish looks toward the light of the female purity that they emanate love for us, and in change they have from us respect and compassion of obedience.


So sweet violent.
So sweet fragile.
So sweet tender.
So sweet pain.

The love is,
Beautiful as every day.
Bad as every time.

The love is so true.
So beautiful.
So happy.
So cheerful.
So derisive.

Trembling of fear as a child when it is dark.
So sure of itself as a strong man in the heart of the night.
The love that frightened the others.
And it made them speak and to turn pale.
The love is kept of eye,
because we watched him to us.

The love is as,
Pursued, wounded, stamped on, done out, denied, cancelled.
This way all we have done.

The love is everything whole.
Is live.
Kissed by the sun that it illuminates the world.

Is Your love.
Is my love.
Is of what has been.

The love is always new.
Is ever changed.
Is a plant that always regenerates.

Trembling as a sweet bird of the nature.
Warm as the summer.

Both You that me we can go and to return.
We can forget, to fall asleep again, to wake up, to suffer, to grow old, to put to sleep again.
To rejuvenate awake, and smiling and laughing. As of enchantment the magic of the endless love.

Our love doesn't stir.
Stubborn as a hard stone.
Live as the desire.
Cruel as the memory.
Stupid as the regrets.
Tender as the memory.
Cool as the marble.
Beautiful as the day.
Fragile as a child.

The love looks us. It smiles at us. Speaks to us.
And me listening trembling. And cry for You. For me.
I beg you.
Also for all the others. What they are loved. What they are loved.
As me that I love you. Always.
Oh Yes. I shout.
You remain where you are. Don't go away.
You remain where in the time were.
Don't move you. Us don't allow.

Us that we are beloved. We have forgotten you to us.
Don't forget of me.
We didn't have that You on our earth.
Don't let us die.
Far. Even more far. And where you want You.
Give us that sign of life that is the love.
Late. Later still. In the night. In the forest of the memoirs.
And where you to the sudden one take the hand and door in the salvation of our hearts.
Thanks my love.