I had nothing... but my eyes painted with tears,
broken wings of so many passions and dreams,
petrified in overwhelming, ruthless silence,
torn by the screaming thoughts from the islands.
I had nothing... than infinite fear
to change my life, like I'm changing the gear,
stumbling in my own dreams with unbounded laces,
running on the road of sadness I left a few traces.

I have nothing... than my fiery heart that's blazing,
I have the relentless frowning in my judgment while racing.
It fills the gap between my soul and thoughts, one or two,
but I can not help it ... I lay my love in front of you...
because yes... I choose to love you like no other,
I dress my heart with the colours of your endless summer.
I may be a dreamer, but you brought me to the ground
from the living stars that I might have found.
Blow my heart now, so that it never hurts wearing the crown,
until the sweet death gets my eyelids to come down...

I'll have nothing... if I don't have you from the start,
I will have nothing... but a deserted heart
pulsing abnormally, pounding so fiercely, I will suffer,
but I know that you and I are destined for each other,
we just have to trust love, time and have much patience,
we have to want more of the burning dreams and sensations,
to dare to breathe through emotions the love of this century,
for our children to carry on our name and our memory...

It should smell like trees with white pearls,
who cuddles the horizon with their gaze,
but the forest has grasped its grey curls
beyond that, only you could be my praise.

And it still smells like frozen soul and frost
looking for its mate on the sky's notice board,
guessing from its whispers the dreadful lust,
dreaming of true embrace they can afford.

It should smell like diffused, scented candles
like the peace-making dreams split into half,
carrying us on the shy path that handles
through sealed mysteries that makes you laugh.

But it smells like sorrow in which tears are hurting,
like thorns in the petals and the taste of bitter lemon,
longing for emotions and sweet words flirting,
oh, if we could say, "I've died and got to heaven!"

The moment you have decided to leave
and take all our memories with you,
lightning of cold chills crossed my grieve,
leaving flood and emptiness came through.

I refuse to think we're like two autumn leaves
and the time came to separate from the tree,
I just look in the blank reminding our beliefs,
the crazy nights, oh, how beautiful it was to be free.

I still love you, but it seems like it's not enough,
you are scared, therefore you preferred to run away.
Tell me that the hot vows were not just a bluff,
that from your life you don't shut me out today.

I keep writing, at the risk of getting ridiculous,
but you ignore me, retreating in absolute peace,
not knowing that in life everything's miraculous.
I'll hide my tear on a sheet, in a bottle and... release.

I'll throw the bottle into the sea, for one day you find it,
and you remember the touch that filled us with fire,
with my heart within you, you'll come back to admit
the rewrite of the script of our lives, we'll hold each other tighter.

I love you in silence in the sleepy mornings of Monday,
wanting you to drive my tear away, without any commitment,
our hearts are still cracking like hot pieces of charcoals,
our lips being deliciously flavoured as strawberries and mint.

I love you on Tuesday, even if I seem insensitive,
lost in a labyrinth, like an insecure, capricious pseudo-child,
you take me flying up to the sky, in a charming idyll,
carrying me in your arms in an incredible adventure and mild.

Time... seems like slipping through our fingers on Wednesday,
enduring the words, the rhythms of my lyrics in the background,
singing our love even if we're crawling on the frenzied fields,
we make vows for better and worse, for always to be around.

Thursday doesn't forget anything when we are both together,
your magic hands, your shy eyes are pulling me back
to gather our hearts, to know that one plus one makes two,
looking at the horizon, to the fusion of colours, not the black.

I love you, you love me... we love each other until Friday,
as one body, one soul without any given restraints,
we know that our hearts belong to us more than yesterday,
your whole life, you put it on the tray, without any complaints.

I love you enormously on Saturday when I'm spoiled,
when your kisses have a hallucinating flavour on my lips,
radiating strongly, with a sacred and stubborn passion,
with an excess of emotions that are never lying to the eclipse.

I love you anyway and anytime, especially on Sundays,
passing through the thin border of my everlasting diary,
feeling that shake of a thrilling desire, a unique experience,
that you... make me feel like I am your fiancee, eternally.

Under the night's breath, I watched the butterflies on the wall,
remembering in silence my long-gone years of youth
when my wings were fully-coloured as the rainbow in fall,
and the world still believed in honest love and the truth.

Thousands of butterflies, they knew how to keep a secret
counting moments, not years, giving us so much emotion,
continuing their dream on St. Valentine's wings, they don't quit
extinguishing my thirsty soul with the waves of the ocean.

Where are you, where is the pure love from yesteryear?
Flying from flower to flower, where did you leave your legacy?
Do you want to settle in my raven hair like a hairpin
or you want me to be the only scenographer of your jealousy?

You're not a butterfly unless you get rid of the moths of the past,
if you do not solve the life's equation with many unknowns.
If you still believe in mute gestures that are growing fast,
let's decorate the night together with the love in our bones.

I know that... it's never too late for anything, ever,
I could be the angel who would wear for you the white dress,
for every day to be a magnificent delight and endeavour,
in black storms, we could be each others sun, more or less.

With you, I'm convinced that I could drive away the fear,
I know our love is the only chance to prove to ourselves
what we already knew, but we soon realized, dropping a tear,
that we fell into the trap of addiction to love from the shelves.

The trap in which our hearts speak a sweet dialect every day,
what for others it's maybe unknown or defective, like a maze,
where the sky without you, would be a bitter and huge grey,
without stars that shines intensely in the hot summer days.

Me, without your warm arms, I would be a tremble and shiver,
I would probably be the hostile bride of the solitude,
for your lips I'm hungry, to flow on my body, like a river,
I would burn to ashes and turn into eternity's prelude.

With you, I'm the solemn tree from your back garden,
and you, the fence around me, singing to me easy.
Otherwise, the yard would be empty, without any pardon,
in my heart would always rest the late fall, making me dizzy.

Without you, I would be just an involuntary speaker
who walks around to hunt the shadows on the lonely streets,
for the light in your eyes, I would always be a seeker,
and my heart would tremble in slow and gloomy beats.

With you, I only see hearts that swears faith to each other,
I feel as if I would have come back from death just now,
in front of the chains of pain, I dressed the armour of another,
for the world does not seem to me anymore upside down.

Call me crazy, for breathing your air in my chest,
and my body struggles with an impatient expectation,
in need of a dream, for accepting the reality,
thinking of me would be a speaking proof of temptation.

Talk to me in cadence, in a seductively deep tone,
for I can lay next to your voice, to fall asleep untroubled,
to listen how the rain knocks my window, in dreams to plunge in
while you are staring at me and leaving me unclothed.

Give silent orders to my body with your greedy hands,
your eyes are not having enough and keeps me craving too,
our lips merge into a hungry clutter and we are left
without breath, insatiable, in a world with love as its tattoo.

Then, let a cloud of sleep lay over your eyes
with smells of aphrodisiac, but extinguishing our fires,
retreating with a slight bow, like a real gentleman
shivered by a chill, but loving his girl, whom he admires.