My angel is far away.
He watches from above
the houses with people
going round and round.
I wait for him, I go to sleep after that
sometimes I dream.
My angel is somewhere else visiting,
somewhere else sleeping.
Sometimes, as a habit,
he just takes a glimpse.
He hadn`t abandoned me.
But he is gone now.
It`s a little bit colder,
with 5 to 6 °C lower.
When he thinks of me
A happiness embraces me.
I don`t want to lose him.
He is a wanderer, unsettled,
My restless angel.
Red rose hips. Honey and dust.
Shabby, bewildered people.
A wind that cause fear,
and pale houses.
Metallic sent of anxiety.
Cold morning. Hot day.
Sadness, but not sharp and not much.
Tired spring women,
washed away fruits and bees.
Today the season will change-
so does the sparrows say.
What a charmer is the rain!
So handsome! Wet and muddy,
with hands stained with rust,
he stopped to touch the pine tree.
And the pine tree with his trunk bristled up
suddenly became defenseless.
There was a smile on his rough lips
that didn`t flew away.
Then the pine tree pricked up his ears,
Took a deep breath and stood upright.
His colorful fluff smile
Like a fir cone broke off.
Wouldn`t you show off
if a rain that big and beautiful
would touch you even once?
He smooths over the grass
and puts a poppy hairpin.
He sprinkles sunset with mild gilding
and makes her beautiful again.
He makes her juicy, desired for touch,
with unlimited scents.
He is yellow. He is green. He is orange. He is scarlet.
How sweet is the warm may.
He is a separate age of the year.
Grassy, loveable and fresh.
He is the land of all the cherries
and surrounds them with yearning.
He is a kiss and laugh with no cause.
He is a forgiveness and heaven for all.
May is careless, beautiful and innocent…
How I miss the warm may.
Making a living
In the summer, he goes abroad to work.
Hides a few notes under his tongue,
Takes a suitcase, courage and a ticket
And off abroad to work he goes.
He makes it through the working day,
and has a pale smile in the evening.
Because of the water and the ice cream
his voice is changed.
Or maybe because of the loving sound
that goes for long.
The summer dreams it`s here.
That it`s a leaf in a cold stream.
The stork is his brother
He is the one who understands his language.
They share one room
and money for a trip they save.
When they come back it`s the same.
What a life is waiting for us…
The summer packs it`s bags.
We will be home for the summer,
but only for a while.
I go out, because I miss you so much
And aside from me I live.
My body breaths. Irons a shirt.
I watch with whom and where it is.
My body runs and celebrates.
It cooks. Makes the days count.
It`s not sure that I exist.
I crumble the bread and breathe the lights.
A shadow occurs. I lose myself. I burn out
and can`t dare ask how are you.
How are you?
I go over the memories.
I wander somewhere beside me.
How are you?