The look in your eyes is like a flash of lightening,
that breaks the darkness of the night,
and gives to him who is lost, a ray of hope,
to be able to grope his way out again.
The look in your eyes is like the honey-tasting manna,
that re-kindled the hope of a people,
a column of fire that leads the way,
and provides warmth and total friendliness.
The look in your eyes, for me, is everything;
it is the beginning and the end of all I am,
an infinite stream of soothing good things.
Without you, there exists nothing, but the end of it all.
As the leaves fell off the trees in November,
and the night nearly stole all the light of the day,
I asked You with tears in my eyes: "Why did u take him?".
And you replied: "'Cause I am the Lord.
I gave him to you just on loan,
and now I wanted him back so soon.
In his lifetime he loved me a lot,
and wished to be near me each day.
And now, because he is mine, he was called near me,
and he listens to us as we talk,
with his usual smile on his lips
and away from the torments of life.
I told you that he who loves me,
and loves his neighbour, never really dies.
He who carries the cross upon his
shoulders, can never cease to live.
The pain of being apart is really great,
the body is spiritually lethargic,
but the aim of all creatures is one,
the final victory of the soul of man!
And softly you whisper into my ear, Again the summer breeze is felt, This way, I and you alone, Like a new holocaust.... And the screams of the widows still echo, Let the white smoke go up,
exhausted to the last......
and the full moon up in the sky
only shadows creates,
and kindle the imagination inside of me,
and gives life to my thoughts
and remembrances,
--memories of moments lacking any bonds
of time,
of a beginning,
or of an end......
confessing your true love for me,
and I look deep into your eyes,
trying to understand,
and with you,
and near you,
in a romantic embrace
that fills the barren valleys
after the dryness of the summer,
I swear my true love for you alone.
caressing us.......
and making the leaves dance once more
in a waltz of shadows
that enchant the valley where we stand.
I listen to the songs of days gone by,
coming from far away, in a soft tune
not to tarnish the silence
of this romantic night
that knows no begining
and knows no end,
just like the infinite blue seas.
you and I alone......
in this solemn promise of love
that has slowly been growing,
flourishing,
and can conquer all the odds,
all the cons,
because it is as strong as a
hard rock,
as solid as a vow of love
that started in out youth,
for me, and for you too!
and scrapes our gums with blood
in a weired
and dark night in February.
Away from the spoiling warmth
of the blankets at home,
they have been massacred in the flames
at the altar of work......
like a massive holocaust....
of our fellow workers,
whose bodies were yesterday smudged
by the hazzards of their toil,
and today have found their end
among the ashes that kill fast.
and the cries of the orphans will go on and on,
like the helpless moan of The Mother,
with her Son lying dead in her arms.
high up....
higher than the cities' great walls,
and annihilate in the burning flames
every shade of unleashed prejudice.
Let all this be a monument
of an industrious cradle of work,
where all is born
and is baptised by fire,
that has the power
to melt the iron and steel.