Petals of dead flowers from trees fell,
As if in protest or Oh’ in sadness?
The wind flown from tree to tree counting,
The branches and leaves of every tree.
Watched the wind in laziness move,
Then saw a bird scratching beak with wings,
With only a slow wind the petals and leaves fallen,
Floated like a blessing from angels and fairies unseen.
Sounds of motors and crowds from far heard,
The galloping world chasing deadlines and mysteries,
Of modernity mankind defined, mankind designed,
And mankind made, and lost in pace none can handle.
The fattening sun looked as if eating cloud bales,
The escaped ones slowly moved to show an illusion,
Of blue so perfectly seen and makes wonder,
Why all the life around looks so slow in my eyes?
Mind, the place made when senses
When romance builds, ah’ senses
And colors it will paint, pace it will earn,
When romance fails, colors erased, pace loses.
Oh’ dear, the darling, the owner of the realm of thoughts,
Loving you gave every sense the duty to paint,
Loving you gave every sense the fuel to rush to blend,
With other senses, and to make my mind giving life its pace.
Oh’ dearest, the champion of the race in my soul,
Nothing makes sense to any sense of mine,
Without the love of yours that lingers in your heart,
And Oh’ my life’s slow decay a historical inevitability.
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