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I started dreaming with them too,
then suddenly the soul took flight.
As a kid to spy on kids playing,
to the madcap rythm of your ill heart.
And you would want to go out and try
what do you lack to run in the meadow.
And you hold in your desire and stand there thinking:
"how the hell do they catch breath?"
As a man, to feel the time wasted
in letting life be told you by your eyes.
And to never be able to drink up the cup but
only with small broken sips.
And to never be able to drink up the cup but
only with small broken sips.
And yet, I did give a smile
- and she still comes back each of her summers -
when I guided her, or maybe was guided by,
to count her hair with sweaten hands.
I don't think I searched for promises in her look,
it doesn't look to me like I chose silence or voice
when the heart got stunned, and now, no, I don't remember
if it was too dismayed or too happy instead.
And the heart went crazy and now, no, I don't remember
by which horizon the light was fading away.
And amid the sweet show of grass,
amid long caresses ending upon the face,
those pearl thighs of hers
were maybe left an unpicked flower.
But that I kissed her, this yes! I do remember!
My heart by then, on my lips.
But that I kissed her, by God yes! I do remember!
And my heart, remained on her lips...
And suddenly the soul took flight,
but I don't feel like dreaming with them,
no, I can't manage dreaming with them.