I’d love to build castles on sand with you,
Fly higher than the Cloud Nine,
I’d like to hear your voice in the morning,
With enthusiasm and fatigue,
With long-term solitude so divine.
I’d love to shake your hand
At least once or twice,
But even more I’d prefer to think like you do
Or even better.
Precious books
And a light scent of mint and eucalyptus
In our fragile dreams…
Your youth was a Holy Grail,
My maturity will become
A playful palace
Of the Baroque era,
So we keep falling asleep
In weird places,
We keep walking the sky
Together, hand in hand,
And we see blessings in our dreams,
We find out more about ourselves
And gradually get rid of
Suffering.