In the South, we love. Our love is strong and red and fierce, like the daylight and the night sky, pretentious, fast-growing, never fading, proud and mysterious. The love is tender, reborn every morning, a flower in the desert, a deserted dove in the flowering mountains, free and wild and beyond the common. It is fragile yet strong.
I remember your stories about flowers, growing everywhere, in impossible places, in crackled stones, in your kitcken. I see you, your words, where ever I go. I am the roots torn upside down, into the air, I am visible yet invisible, I re-root, stay strong, You, inside my innermost beeing, You, in my hand, flowering.
I love But I must go, my love must go over the Atlantic, leaving you with the flower and the dove, leaving you with the nightfall and the daylight, leaving you with myself, as you play for me, feel for me, see for me, laugh and cry for me, please keep on being all that you are for me, I will let you be with me, for me, by me for ever, for this moment, for good and for flowering mountains. I could break time and space, only by the force of you hand, only by the power of Us. You teach me about life and truth, you make me remember everything I thought I had forgotten.
I remember your stories about flowers, growing everywhere, in impossible places, in crackled stones, in your kitcken. I see you, your words, where ever I go. I am the roots torn upside down, into the air, I am visible yet invisible, I re-root, stay strong, You, inside my innermost beeing, You, in my hand, flowering.
I love But I must go, my love must go over the Atlantic, leaving you with the flower and the dove, leaving you with the nightfall and the daylight, leaving you with myself, as you play for me, feel for me, see for me, laugh and cry for me, please keep on being all that you are for me, I will let you be with me, for me, by me for ever, for this moment, for good and for flowering mountains. I could break time and space, only by the force of you hand, only by the power of Us. You teach me about life and truth, you make me remember everything I thought I had forgotten.
This is me, loving you.
2 Improvised Oranges:
I will love you, like flowers grow in the mountains, strongly and faithfully, seeking for you, 'cause you never languish.
Light grows. Light fades. You, instead, shine everlastly.
Where are you now, artist?
Greetings from Madrid.
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