literature

Anticipation

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Literature Text

Ήθελα τόσα να σου πω...
Να με ποθείς, να μ'αγαπάς,
να με θυμάσαι σαν βροχή, να ονειρεύεσαι για εμάς,
να ξεκουφαίνεις την σιωπή με βογγητά του έρωτα...
Ήθελα να σου πω να με προσμένεις, θα'ρθω σαν τα πουλιά την άνοιξη...

Κι όμως.
"Μην περιμένεις" άκουσα τη φωνή μου να διατάζει.
Το γιατί δε θα στο πω,
θα σου το κρύψω.
Ελεύθερα να προσδοκάς την άνοιξη, να επιμένεις για ένα μπουμπούκι...
~ion1979 and I both agree: Time is a band aid. Sometimes it heals the wound, sometimes the cut is too deep for it to heal. Burt always, when you pull it, everything around it hurts... He insisted i upload this without any changes so in a way it is a gift to him...
Regrets is a wasted feeling. I wish i had none but i don't need forgiveness from anyone. And those who pity us should take a good look in the mirror first...

Translation, with slight modifications...
So much i wanted to tell you...
"Love me, remember me like rain, dream for us,
deafen silence with love's sighs..."
I longed to tell you "Watch out for me, i'll come like birds in the spring..."

Still...
"Don't wait for me" i heard my voice ordering.
I won't tell you why,
i'll hide that from you.
Freely to anticipate spring, to insist for one blossom...
© 2007 - 2024 Ebonessa
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