The seconds pass from the memory
Over a fine line to the back of the dining-room.
With my finger, I draw a window on the wall
And I open it to let in that sun dressed in cold.
I simply like that smell,
The one of things we’ve not said but we know they are there;
The smell of the moments we’ve lost in so many streets,
The ones of tree branches that these days are firs.
I simply smile because I’m in no hurry
Now that your gloves cover my hands so well.
[There are] Tangerines, market lights and more Decembers
That we’ve been passing.
You play with the wool of your sweater
And make hypnotic circles while you gaze at the poster
Of a full-color old photo from somewhere in the world,
The precise point where laughter mixes with sadness.
I simply like to believe in nothing,
Only in the moments that we pass with no burden,
The ones that arouse a kind of heat,
The ones so stupid that maybe even I don’t understand...
I simply smile because I’m in no hurry
Now that your gloves cover my hands so well.
[There are] Tangerines, market lights and more Decembers
That we’ve been passing and that are still left for us out there.
Today, I’m simply looking at you unhurriedly.
Little songs get diluted in the wine.
You always tell me if spring is still a long way off,
And today we’re here.
I simply smile because I’m in no hurry
Now that your gloves cover my hands so well.
[There are] Tangerines, market lights and more Decembers
That we’ve been passing and that are still left for us out there.
Today, I’m simply looking at you unhurriedly.
Little songs get diluted in the wine.
You always tell me if spring is still a long way off,
And today we’re here.