Marco has left not to return,
The train in the morning arrives already without him,
It is only a heart with a metal soul,
In that gray fog that surrounds the city.
Its bank is empty, Marco is still in me,
I feel him breathe, I think that he’s still here,
The enormous distance can’t divide
Two hearts and a single one to beat.
Perhaps if you think of me,
If you don’t want to speak to anyone,
If you hide like I do.
If you flee from everything and if you go away,
Soon to bed without having supper,
If you tighten hard against you
The pillow and you lie down to cry
If you do not know how much bad
The solitude will do to you.
I see your photo in my diary
With eyes of a little timid boy.
I hold it tight against my chest and it seems to me that
You are here, between English and mathematics.
Your father and his advice, with monotone,
Because of the work and other trivialities,
He has taken you far without having counted on you,
He has said to you: “one day you will understand”.
Perhaps if you think of me,
With the friends you will see yourself,
Trying only to forget,
It’s not that easy, the truth,
In class I can’t do it any more,
And in the afternoons it is worse,
I do not have desire to study, because of you,
My thoughts go.
Therefore, it is impossible to divide the life of both,
For that reason, wait for me, love of mine… conserve the illusion.
The solitude between both,
This silence in my interior,
That restlessness to see life pass by without your love.
For that reason, wait for me, because
This cannot happen,
It is impossible to separate both our histories like this.
The solitude between both,
This silence in my interior,
That restlessness to see life pass by without your love.
For that reason, wait for me, because
This cannot happen,
It is impossible to separate both our histories like this.