I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the red grey sky with the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue love twisted over my soul.

I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
voice of a bird, is sometimes like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.
Because you are my distant home

Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolve in your soul.

Treat my heart, as a first drop of rain.
I arrive unannouced, kissed by dying sunlight.
There is nothing you can do, just breathe
I am more than a memory.
I am a thought shaped by touch.