Memory of feeling

Recall the feelings I wish.
To be able to say I love you, caressing your auburn hair with my gaze.
Running over your wounds and depriving your eyes of malevolent reflections
Of one who waits in vain
and becomes the guardian of silence and resignation.
I would love you and laugh with an unrestrained joy
and without the restraint of one who has grown
in madness and lack of zeal.
I would know how to love you, yes I would know how to love you,
if only I would distract my gaze from the march of autumn
and suppress the rage of the soldier with no army left.
I would, oh yes I would, mirror my soul
and the deserts of the world in your green eyes,
hard and shining like the trinkets of a gypsy,
waiting for the dawn of escape from the land of shadows.
All this I wish, but I watch you from behind the dark corner
of the village of mother-of-pearl rocks,
after the midnight sun,
waiting for the sound of your footsteps accelerate
like the beats of my heart as you walk away from me