The past is like an old man
who has nothing to say.
Pain is like a bed
where I no longer am able to sleep.
I will place my hopes
above our windowsill
like red tulips coming back to bloom.
And sooner or later
you'll be back down the road
that crosses my life.
I will cure with caresses
your wounded soul
and, looking into our eyes,
we'll gently find
that, pretending to separate, was eventually useless.
For you,
I will ask spring
to stop all year.
I will give you love filters without tricks, without deceit
to return inside your heart.
Then I will help you to love me
until the last tomorrow
as the first day together,
smiling at the pain
just as it is done if it's true love.
The years pass for everyone
and we too have changed,
more in charge of destiny
maybe less in love.
Now it's more than a hope
to return as before
when hand in hand we woke up one morning.
And, come on,
let's call the old friends,
let's also invite the relatives
all in elegant clothes, perhaps crazy but happy
and let's shout it out to everyone.
I will help you to love me
until the last tomorrow
as the first day together,
smiling at the pain
just as it is done if it's true love.
It was beautiful finding ourselves
and now, while you're resting,
I climb in the sky and with a brush
for you I write:
today, newlyweds.