If not for you, how sad
dwell in my heart,
what grief.
If not for you,
the crystal chandeliers of those dance halls
where the breeze of nostalgia,
plummet
together over my head, breaking it.
If not for you,
and your friendly smile, die every night
without seeing daybreak, popping
tortured by the crying.
If not for you,
I would drown in saliva of seas and mountains,
and salt from my face
I burn the soul.
If not for you,
hope my days,
life would no longer be a place for me occupied.
Dalianegra Mayte.
Painting "unfinished dinner in winter," Joanna Filipowska Sierk.
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