Why do I love the night,
when everything's asleep?
Why do I watch starlight?
For me it's like the life-sip...
Why do I dream too much?
Why do I think a lot?
Why can't I simply touch
the roots of poet's lore?...
Why do I feel alone
among the noizy crowd?
Why don't I want to love?
What do I search to find?
Why do I long for one,
I don't exactly know?
Why do I sing his songs?
Why do I still adore
his words, his look, nis name?
...The Master of the word...
I write but not for fame,
I write because of love...
to him...But it's a dream...
A fantasy of mine...
It'll melt with the first sunbeam,
remaining only rhyme...
Why do I long for things
created by myself?
Girl's fancy! Naive dreams!
The verse without the sense!
For me it's not the same...
Let be my Muse with me!
Though I know, I'll never gain
a single look from thee!
Copyright: , 2007
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