You and I are from there; from the world of beautiful hearts where we meet the truth, and lines that know nothing but honesty and purity.
You and I are a story of silver snow soaring in a wide space without falsehood.
You and I are a delicate hand and delicate lips in a sky far from the falseness and pallor of my city.
You and I are a very white voice, a very fragrant flower, and a very delicate river whose beginnings are from your blue eyes.
You and I are a love story, where your fragrance is endless, your light is endless, and your tenderness is endless.

Hold me close, your hands soft like a flower touched by a bright morning. They are a ray of sunshine, yet they are immersed in silence. Their eyes are closed, not wanting to see me.
Hold me close in the evening alleys, to erase this vast estrangement in my soul. There is nothing here but the sound of the wind, quietly stealing my joy.
Hold me close, the roads and windows like bracelets, speaking to me in a pale voice that no longer knows how to deal with its delicate suffering. I no longer know how to travel, and I don't want to.
I just want you to hold me close. Only you.

With you, I live in happiness, for your smile is something indescribable and unbelievable, planting in my heart every hope that never fades. With you, I've become more beautiful, for your blue eyes have drawn every cheerful color and every tender story on my face.
Only with you, I'm sweeter, for your lips are made of honey, like pink grapes. I can't tell you how I dream about them.
With you, I travel to magical cities, live magical tales, and live in magical tents that fill my heart with joy and happiness. With you, I've become purer. You're something that transforms everything around you into purity. Only with you, I feel myself, and I feel contained, fulfilled, and sufficient. Only with you, I want nothing else.

Here, your shadow captivates the place like a shining bird playing in the rain. It speaks to me with the joy of a lover, with blue eyes that sigh like a cloud that never tires of rain.
Your shadow fills me every day with sighs of longing. Here, in this pulse and in my veins, it dwells deeply. Your shadow has mingled with my soul and body, and we have become one.
Your shadow is as sweet as an apple, in whose space butterflies live among the roses, and geese dance in its waters like the songs of the sun. What a delicate shadow!
Your shadow is a field of bright colors, a gazelle swaying happily on a swing. It fills the leaves of my heart with dew and a delicate chirp.
Every day, your shadow offers me the songs of morning wet with the breeze. How it amazes and captivates me as I wander among your landscapes, touch your pearly cheeks, and drown in your blue eyes.

Don't you look at me? Don't you see that inside me are warm desires? But they're wrapped in a cold blanket. Don't you see that the snow is your touch, the fog your color, and the silence your voice?
Don't you see that? I can no longer hold on as I should, and although in my eyes is a love you cannot imagine and a flame of longing, I am completely collapsing.
In truth, I am now soft whispers and a torrent of faint, muffled calls fading slightly toward the sunset.
Don't you see that I dream of your blue eyes every night? Yet I tell you frankly and simply: In my quiet heart is a strange noise, a torrent of longing for you.

I'm still drowning in your little river. I still cling to the moment we met, even though I know your smiles are an enchanting world and your blue eyes something unforgettable. Despite the splendor of your light and your radiant appearance, you come to my dreams with elegant celebrations and moonlit music. Do you know how beautiful it is for your blue eyes to be all I dream of? I have become just a strange longing, like a painting on the water played with by the wind with its beloved pain. It is ridiculous for me to imagine that I would die of love, from looking into your blue eyes. If only you understood for once, if you would stop sailing far away, for your blue eyes to look at me; at my heart.

Your love makes my days as quiet as a rural tale. It makes me wait for you with a noisy calm, and when your face shines, I lean like a spike of wheat, and when your eyes smile, I turn into a heart that fell into the well of love long ago. Your love makes my days clear, without clouds or storms. Yes, you are my warm homeland. Don't you see that? Don't you see that my soul blushes when it sees you? Now you see that nostalgia suddenly flows, when your ghost visits me, it fills me with calm, a noisy calm. Every day, my coffee and I enjoy solitude; I smile at the dawn and sing to the sunset for no other reason than that I adore you and that I await you with a noisy calm.