In waiting for you, my love, the seasons have snowed in black and white

In waiting for you, my love, the seasons have snowed in black and white, The landscape of our time together has been painted in trenches of lingering silences, And every moment without your voice, an eternity crystallized in waxen clocks, The autumns have passed with winds that leafed through memories like pages rare. Since I've been waiting for you, my love, so many years have slipped by... The long road of your absence has been sprinkled with shooting stars, The weeping celestials, in the night of my soul, are the lighthouses of an abandoned edifice, The city of my heart is in mourning, and its streets bare and numbed. And the mournful sunsets of violet purples, Are faded lipstick marks on the rim of a forgotten glass, Yesteryear's dreams have become cobwebbed in untamed thoughts, Where are you, love lost in the fields of lavender of unshared evenings? I waited for you at the crossroads of roads, a spider's web stretched between yesterday and today, Where vows of love were carved in wind and promises of smoke, Like shadows that dimmed beneath the flicker of candles nibbled by oblivion, The springs have faded, the celebrated red chestnuts have rusted, in a leaden festivity. Yet no one passed by there, no echo, just absence as a heavy cloak, The gate to you seems locked with a thousand padlocks of steadfast memories, By the sea I dream of you, a foam statue waiting in silence, Only the waves, prompt in mysteries, confide to me the secret of the parted. The ocean of my soul waves its unseen wings, In the close murmurs of hidden shells on endless shores, I wonder what solemn horizons, what illuminated passages have you walked since you left? The waves respond with froth of cold regrets and with untouched, uncreated prints. And this evening, again, the violins cry beneath my window, Soothing their longing in faint voices piercing the amber sky's infinity, It's the autumn of a soul that submerges under time, under yearning, under an unconsoling sky, In a lamentable dance to the notes of romance, which fall away like leaves in the wind, wandering without end.