I did not know how to love you

I did not know how to love you, I burned in silence, a flame wandering In the forgotten valley, where time stands still, Your eyes - lighthouses in the night, beads sparkling In the ash that remained from our love. Your echoes, in a hush, reverberated, Eluding my grasp, unable to hold them close; Beneath my steps, the burning lava consumed me, Leaving behind the ash of unfulfilled desires. I touched you, gently, upon the soul, without you knowing, Windmills scattering the scent of jasmine Under heavy eyelids; and I crushed you, Unaware of your astral radiance. From the ear of wheat, I gleaned silence, The same mute piety from which distance was born. I never learned how to love, I diluted, became part of the river of love. Beyond me, where dreams end, The white butterflies extinguish in the prayer of resurrection, Leaving behind only the memory of what was And a deep regret for the unfulfilled love.