Lipsticks's Graffiti (lirycs)

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"Is there another life? Shall I awaken and find all this a dream? There must be, we cannot be created for this sort of suffering."

...Go mighty Soul,
Far from this Land.
The God of lovers
Through fear and foul
Will wipe your tears,
Hold tight your hand.

Farewell to you
Amazing grace,
Queen of the dark,
Bride of the blue,
White Lady in black,
Maiden in lace.

Sorrows and pains
Won't find your path,
I'll keep them here
Far out from you
Deep down my brain
Until my death.

I'm thinking this letter
While watching the moon
Shining silent and cold
Beyond willows and pines...
(...Through our window at home).

Here still freezes at night
And it snowed for some days,
But tomorrow's going fine
With the wind from the South...
(...Said the Weather Report).

You'll be certainly warm,
Sleeping deep in your bed
In that little clean room.
Are you dreamin' someone...
(...Far more tough than I was?).

Who's the fortunate next
Who will die in your flesh?
Is he better than me?
Not a man, not a God...
(...Can survive after you).

You're the evil of life
And the good in the death,
As I learned by myself
Through the thousands of lives...
(...we've already burned once).

Long before you were mine,
I was yours, we were one,
But you pleaded for freedom
And I let you to fly...
(...With the wings I'd disguisaed).

I'm just driving insane
While cryin' out all my pain
To the ghosts of my life
Which are tearing my soul...
(...With the teeth of a wolf).

Let me close these few lines
Wishing you all the best.
Look forward, never cry,
Do forget those bright days...
(...When we both were so young).

In the years that will come,
If it happens you're sad,
Think of me for a while,
Call my name in the breeze...
(...I shall always be there).

You will feel some of me
Whirling light in the wind
Which is ruffling your hairs
like a caress of love...
(...Fairy-tales tell the truth).

I shall whisper these words:
"Don't look back in the dark,
Come along with me dear,
Life is shorter than love..."
(...Don't you know little bird?)

            Your pale little face, dimmed by a bitter shadow
                		               of forced cheerfulness,
	Reflects in the opaque sealed thick glass
                		               of the carriage window.
	We wave each other politely, as if we were just old friends,
                		               stifling our real feelings.
	Then, you spread your little bony hand palm, 
                		               against the cold dirty window glass,
	While I, from outside, try to match it with mine,
                		               without perceiving any warmth.
	The train suddenly starts, while you're still looking at me
                		               with a quiet sadness.

	My cry, erupting abrubtly from the innermost depths of my tense self,
                		                as a horrible inhuman howl, 
	 Gets grievously lost in the fathomless emptiness of my soul.	
                		              
				     Why going back home then? What for? 
	
	I'll find nothing else but the usual damned silence,
                		               cunningly waiting his turn
	To remind me two short days, too bright
                		               to be forgotten soon.
	I wander insanely about the rooms in desperate search of you:
                		               "Where's your smell dear... where's it?
	Did you take away with you even your own sweet essence,
                		               the very taste of life itself?"

       Our bed's still warm and disordered;
                		               the steaming butt of a cigarette of yours
	 Stained by your unforgettable fuchsia lipstick
                		               lies among mine in the ashtray...
	 A pair of lonely panty-hose hang lazily 
 					      dripping  in the bathroom,
	 Where I find your last love message, hastily written down in lipstick
        		                       on the tarnished mirror:

       "Don't forget me dear... and take care of you,
        				       my beloved moustache!"

       I run out mad with grief slamming the door, 
        		                       hiding myself in a dark room,
	In a useless attempt not to listen to the merciless sound of time,
                		               which coldly keeps on rolling on...
	While your gentle, girlish voice rumbles in my brain
                		               like a primeval rainstorm:

"Don' forget me dear..."
"Don' forget me dear..."
"Don' forget me dear..."
"Don' forget me dear..."
"Don' forget me dear..."
"Don' forget me dear..."

Thank you Maremé, my dear Web Angel, for your support 
And precious help in revising my poor translation.

Every time I see you again
I notice with trepidation
(and much regret)
A tiny new wrinkle
On your tender little face.

You'll certainly see some more hair missing
On my queer head,
Which is still impassively going on
Grinding abstruse dreams,
As though yesterday and tomorrow
Were not yet a faint memory.

If I wouldn't really love you,
As only an old boy can do
It should be far more easier:
A game of cards with friends
(I haven't got any),
Some chick from time to time,
Just to to lower the ardours,
(It's enough to be patient, you know...),
Quite a little bit of television, 
A good escapist fiction book,
And "Les jeux sont faites".

Yes, I know my dear love,
It'd be just a silly life;
But what kind of life is ours then,
Made of sad farewells
And too short returns?

An unfinished gesture of yours
Has filled with sheer grace
The huge space of a moment.

How much shining joy
You've conveyed 
(You, so unwitting and innocent)
To my perverse obscure mind
Which, greedy, absorbs like a sponge
Even the tiniest breath of yours.

I miss you much,
Feel alone since you've gone away,
Lost my mind without you, each day
Living my life as a fool,
Walking against all the rules,
Why should I care?

I miss you much,
Think of you every drop of time,
Can't forget that you once were mine,
As I was yours like a child,
Living each day in a dream,
A fairy-tale too short for us.

Where are you my love,
So far away,
Lost in time and space.
Will you wait for me
And love again my soul,
As you did before
So many times?

I miss you much,
People tell me I must retake
Live my life as you were a break,
A flash of light in the dark
Which hit my eyes for a while
And left me blind.

I miss you much,
Hardly feel there's a world outside,
Pulsing life as a huge weird heart,
Sun is still rising each day,
And spring is already on its way
But without you can feel no joy.

I will search for you
With all my strenght
Beyond this life of mine.
Wait for me my love
That's not a farewell,
See you soon again,
Take care of you.

* The above is not "strictu sensu" a poem, for it has been conceived as a song's liryc, but since I am a writer and a song-writer as well, who's not wealthy at all (or a "poor writer" either?) I have not space enough on my HP to publish the whole song.

	There will never be another "You"
	In the deceiving "time of the dream",
	Nor any other woman might,
					even by far,
	Resemble you, little bird
	With a great sweet heart.


	Only one out of a billion women
	Can really be a mighty Shakti,
	The very meaning of life itself,
					As you are.


	We're all walking in the shade of Maya,
	Who's the dream made reality,
	Or... perhaps reality made of dream?
	That would mean that if I were just daydreamer
	You wouldn't be anything else but a shadow,
	While if you were quite reale as I feel you,
	Made of blood and bones and brain,
	The nightmare would be yours, poor girl,
					... only yours.

	Who knows?