Do you remember the days, when you were one
The aroma of the firstborn rain, caressed your soft skin, exiled all misgivings and fears;
a young artiste, you were.
And there was always a certain place, solely yours,
where the milieu perfectly toned each butterfly,
where the stars sheltered every spirit,
where a rock and a river never fought.
Now you slowly disappear, your memories are slipping away
Gone outside, eyes wide open, you see different shades.
And you found another place,
where a nestling breathes its last breath,
where the blue is bare,
where nothing is any longer rare.
In your dream, petite buds of innocence days will come into flower;
following the genuine melody odours,
you shall go where the magic never died.