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From love you only know the soft
shores,
the caresses of the night and its contours,
the kisses on the reliefs of its landscapes,
the journeys in the center of its body velvet.
The seasons crack hearts and
passions
, and souls and their loneliness;
Notes of boredom play their lamentation
On the silences of life, out of habit, Black and white
chords on the keyboard of the
years
That reach the limits of non-return;
You turn the hands of time on the
dial
Of its nights forgetting to light up its days
Because
Of love you only know the soft
shores,
The caresses of the night and its contours,
The kisses on the reliefs of its landscapes,
The journeys in the center of its body velvet.
Your words have been lost in the alleys of
time,
Those words that today tear
silence
and will be lost in the veils of the wind
Carrying away his soul towards his hopes.
Her heart is a parchment lined with rhymes,
Alexandrian rhymes embraced with smiles,
words to share, sublime
music where notes in colour sing their
sighs.
But
From love you only know the soft
shores,
the caresses of the night and its contours,
the kisses on the reliefs of its landscapes,
the journeys in the center of its body-velours.
Of love you do not know all its
faces,
Of love you do not know all its
wrecks.
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