Amo [English translation]

I love the wind that teases us

when it plays in your hair.

When you become a ballerina

to follow it with graceful steps.

I love when you radiantly run

to throw yourself into my arms.

When you make yourself very small

to sit on my knees.

I love the setting sun

when it slowly lies itself down,

but I love to hope, credulous,

that, for us, it would inflame itself.

I love your hand that reassures me

when I get lost in the dark

and your voice has the murmur

of the source of hope.

I love when your misty eyes

cloak me with your sweetness.

And, like on a feather pillow,

my forehead rests itself on your heart.