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Far Too Little I Know

I

Far too little I know about the things that lie between us,
I see the sea drawing back and rushing in,
I know too little to tell you about my love,
see your tracks disappearing over a sand dune.

I know too little to talk about a secret,
how one day can be so very special,
filled with life changing meaning,
about the things that I read in your eyes

but that that you really love me,
I know before the sea wipes our tracks away
when I kiss you and get you giggling,
while we give new steps into life

when you became the meaning in my small universe;
if you were the light falling through the window on me.

II

If you were the light falling through the window on me,
a star shining at night against the sky,
I would have been able to admire you, in days without end
but now thunder flashes down

whiter than daylight into my life
becoming part of my life,
to again jump to somewhere else
as if single moments are everything

and far too short was the time that you could stay,
with almost endless cheerfulness that you could bring
in this tough world as part of me,
where my heart could sing songs of joy

and far too little time I had invested in you,
how should I have known that I would make an oath with you?

III

How should I have know that I would make a oath with you
before I met you,
have a concept of such intimate feelings,
as with which you are part of my whole world?

How must I have know the meaning
of faith, love and hope
and about professing of true love
before our lives started together

on ways that I could not expect
and could learn to love
past events, years and times reaching to maybe,
that you are part of everything in me?

I want to love you as in days long past,
in the winter of my life.

IV

In the winter of my life
when all the trees around me stand skeleton,
with stripped branches shivering in the wind,
with sometimes a thunder bashing down

I sometimes remember the look in your sea-green eyes
where colours so secretly come together,
even when my body bend like branches, bended by age
as if in my thoughts they are looking forever at me,

it’s as if a new spring just have got to come,
as if your arms surround my neck,
with you flowering anew
as a angel of light

it’s sometimes as is you are with me,
when the morning starts with its first rays.

V

When the morning starts with its first rays,
with the sky changing from twilight grey to blue,
hang with the moon still hanging white
I am caught like a lizard

that prays to the sun,
where it’s rising white hot,
where I sit before your photograph
that shows every bit of your beauty,

but the nights and months past
while every day you look back
from that photograph
and I wonder if you still do love me?

and I think certainly, you are just as pretty,
when the sun throws its last rays over the trees.

VI

When the sun throws its last rays over the trees,
drawing shadows out long
before it reaches out
with long orange red rays

and the streetlights suddenly are awakening
give eyes to poles, becoming orange yellow
then I know
that you are somewhere else and just as pretty,

that you are laughing somewhere else,
caring after your children, doing your duties,
stretching yourself out for the night,
after kissing your children goodnight

and I am really longing while I am waiting,
I miss the way that you laugh in pleasure.


VII

I miss the way that you laugh in pleasure,
how you cry for a beautiful movie,
even expecting something good out of poor things,
how on a dark rainy night you shelter against me,

the way that you look at me,
the feelings that you bring to me,
as if you’re green eyes shines like the sea,
with every word going into my depths

but time takes an own road
and destiny is without mercy,
where at a time we both had to go different directions
and still try to jump over horizons with words

and maybe I have to court you again anew,
far too little I know about the things that lie between us.

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