Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
When you are missing, my dear, I always feel bad,
and tonight I waited for you with joy that lit the sky,
I lit the colors, full of light, like spring,
the flowers in the room seemed to kiss the sun.
I waited for you to bring the sounds with your voice,
and I would be intoxicated in the arms of happiness,
amazed and left speechless,
forgetting the troubles and the world of sorrow.
I left the windows open for the curious birds,
to the sweet sounds of joy and magic,
when happiness would play with us like crazy,
they would write love solfeggios.
You didn’t come tonight to ignite the joy,
the ember of the soul was slowly covered in ash,
and the celebration hung in the mists of sadness,
as if saying to me in a painful voice: “Forgive me!”
How can I extinguish the colors that blind me,
they don’t leave the room; they’ve taken it hostage,
the longing, the sadness that occupy the soul,
that weighs and hurts like a heavy stone?
The city silenced the noises and slowly
began to retreat with pain into darkness.
What should I tell the birds that come around,
and they waited and waited with such desire?
Now, they approach the window and look in wonder.
tell me, dear, what should I say to the blue of the sky?
the beautiful blue furrows its brows, turns dark,
fills with clouds, and gets ready for rain.
This is what happens when you are missing…
