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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Heleni Translated by Daphne on May 17th, 1995 By the first drop of rain the summer died The words that had bore those stary nights got wet All those words that had one sole destination You! Where will our hands reach now that weather no longer cares for us Where will our eyes rest now that the distant lines got dispersed in the clouds Now that your eyes have shut above the landscapes that were ours And now that we found ourselves - as if the mist went right through us- totally lonely surrounded by your inanimate images With the forehead against the window we wait upon the new torment It 's not Death that will make us fall since You are alive Since a wind exists somewhere and he will live you entirely To dress you from the near like our hope will from afar Since there is elsewhere A greenest meadow far from your laughter up to the sun Telling him secretely that we will one day meet again No, it is not death we shall confront But just a tiny drop of the autumn rain A blurry feeling The scent of the moist soil within our souls that are continuously diverging. And if your hand is not between our hands And if our blood wont' run within your dream's veins The music unseen within us and O sorrowful Wanderer of whatever still keeps us alive It is the humid air the come of autumn the depart The elbow's bitter support upon the memory that comes out when night arrives to divorce us from the light Behind the square window that looks upon the sadness That sees nothing Because it has become music unseen fire a strike of the big clock on the wall Because it has become A poem a verse upon a verse, a sound resembling tears and words Words not like the rest of them but with the same destination: You!
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