With a silence of yours,
I sleep with my dreams;
with the end of the day, you —
I wake up, all for her.
With a joy of yours,
I hear people singing aloud;
with an end of yours,
comes another day, to you.
With every effort to understand you,
I surrender myself, deep into the darkness;
with every wonder of you,
it shines with the full moon, and turns magical.
With every hour about you,
I am lost — of memories, and of mind;
with every cry of yours,
I lose myself, and become myself.
Soon a day will come, when the phone will ring,
and one voice will echo in my ear:
“Panda, I can’t take it anymore —
she talks too much,
she sneaks too much,
she cries too much,
she gives me competition.”
Though I am not jealous,
I am a little scared of her;
and though I enjoy the madness with her —
how can two swords survive in one sheath?
The voices will echo, and my brain will ache;
time will pass,
from evening to night,
from night to day.
Those voices are coming, from far away —
I can hear them coming soon,
I hear them whispering, soon.
You say one thing, and your eyes another —
making me believe it is all lies.
You say something, known to the unknown, I feel;
often it is close to the truth,
but it moves with a sharp turn of reality,
and rises again with the darkness and the night,
and sleeps with a weeping mourn…
I used to glance slyly, from beneath my drawing book,
at those deep, lost eyes that lured me, and my smile;
though they faded often, and were lost, seldom found —
how I would come early, to the rise, just to see that angel of “deep, dark eyes”…
Sparkling and stunning, a deadly smile —
she looks behind my time;
slyly, and slowly, even time whispers:
her aura, and her smile, all around mine.
Afar, at the heights of love,
I am scared of its hurt;
wide open, I welcomed the thorns —
how seldom do I hear it wrong?
Open your arms, and shower your love onto me;
shall I be lost beneath it — your heart, your caresses —
lost in the loaf and the work of these illusions?
Spare me not a rose, but spare me from hate;
I shall go far, with the smile of yours in my heart…
She speaks little, but her eyes hold a whole sea of the world;
she holds me seldom, yet her heart is always full of the lover;
though she knows me little, she loves me for all that I am —
but she does not know: I will be everything she ever desired.
Before the moon dwells, before the sun rises,
I watch the shore after night;
glimmering in the shadow of light,
wherever my eyes rush — to you.
And I keep on talking to you, until
you wake up in the light of the sun;
and I find you everywhere,
but I am never going to stop it,
till I am in your arms, and out of the existence-race.
And the raindrops keep on falling on my head…
and I am lost in you — my mother, nature.