A long time ago, while I wrote poetry
My hand involuntarily would create grief and pain.
Through all my verses,  through my stanzas,
Wings of solitude had taken place.

So I threw the pen away one day;
I was so very tired of composing sadness.
And started the journey, I the curious poet,
In search of my inspiring lyrical happiness.

I went by the sea and witnessed how the waves,
Surging from the deep, the beach were gently kissing.
I placed their fiery passion in my notebook, with me,
To have it as a paradigm someday in my writings.

I captured the liveliness of the swift, swift wind and,
From the magnificent stars, I got their gold plated light.
The meadows and the mountains bestowed me their dreams.
The children gave me their laughter, sweet and bright.

As I was approaching the green lively garden
Fascinated, admiring the red blown rose buds,
I felt your company bringing me shivers.
Why weren't you present earlier in my life? !

No more did I chase the amber falling leaves
When the golden autumn let them fall down from trees.
For see, you became now my inspiring muse.
My half inner soul, got already fulfilled.

The pen in my hand is now merrily singing,
As I find myself taken in your sweet embrace.
We're peacefully sitting on a rock by the sea.
The sun is setting down, with charm and grace.


2005