Love - what is love? A generous heart pierced by a longing like a cry
Love - what is love? A generous heart pierced by a longing like a cry,
Clasped hands in the prayer of silence; and a deaf, endless, and unjust despair.
Life - what is life? A sequence of steps towards infinite horizons,
On a path without a map, where the winds of fate often become temptations.
Where love appears unexpectedly and then disperses like smoke.
Love, oh sweet phantom, shadows of mystery ascending towards the horizons,
A raw saga pulsating in the veins of time, dispelling even the darkest memories.
A whisper of angel wings in the night, a wave that sweeps the shore of frozen emotions,
A divine flash that reaches from the cosmos into the chest, ineffable and misunderstood, sacrificed.
Life is a stage with ever-changing scenery, beneath the dazzling celestial vault,
Fading at dusk, a face of love, beneath the descending mask of evening.
Gazing at hidden suffering in moonlit rays, losing itself in the tapestry of the encompassing ether,
Life is the theater where we, the actors of blood and dreams, rehearse love, torn and bearers.
And love, that flame unaware of death, warms us in the depths of dreams,
Life and death congeal around it, pearls shining in the aurora of sadness, unbridled in the search for illumination.
It is that eternal search, the soul that dreams towards the stars,
A fairy tale that dances on the edges of our days, a symphony in which love perpetually resonates and settles in our souls.
It fills the emptiness that life wears like a counselor, with hope that love does not flee, does not abandon us,
Animating every atom that holds us, every thought captured in the chamber of our hearts.
When love rushes from our arms, leaving traces of light in the pristine distance,
Life, a suite of moments within a frame, where each dream is a promise of love that has not yet ended, but is only now becoming true.
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