You dont know that I see a sign of you in every star that blows the fog until dawn,
or in the red face of the anemone, which is the play of the breezes hand, I get a clue
from you, I
see a sign of you, I get a clue from you,
you dont know that I have a sign of you in the drop of tears, which was once the manifestation of your anger
, or in the bloody wave of the horizons, which was once the sight of your eyes
. I see a trace of you, I
see a trace of you, I see a trace of you, in the
sorrow of strangers, in the sighs of the unfortunate,
in that dew, in that flower, in the pure love of the nightingale,
in the days of spring, in the water of the springs of Saran
, in those wanderings, in these disorientations
, I see a trace of you, I see a trace of you, I see a trace of you, I take a
clue from you, I am
now in the porch of the galaxies, in the sound of The sorrow of the caravans
in that rainbow, the tired follower, in the tears that sit on the eyelashes
, in the cup that is empty of water, in the sound that rises from the reed,
I see a sign of you, I see a sign of you, I
see a sign of you, I see a sign of you,
in the sorrow of strangers, in the sighs of the unfortunate,
in that dew, in that flower, in the pure love of the nightingale,
in the days of spring, in the water of the springs,
in those confusions. In these disappearances
, I see a sign of you, I get a clue from you, I
see a sign of you, I get a clue from you.
