It’s a small world, you said!
A world that might have been
large enough to unite with my beloved
but woe, the plague of borders and bayonets!
A weird time, undoubtedly,
when the governments and their polities
thrive on fear, conjured up by empty words
and a hatred for the presumed divergence!
Wish I had the means to ask for your hands,
a horse, a sail to leave this barren land!
Perhaps you would let me belong
to the corner you call your home,
near the mountain, decked with a forest, green,
where your cloud of hair is ruffled by the wind!
Still, with most of my numbered days already gone
what rights do I have on that heavy cloud,
streaked with golden rays from the sun,
woven from the same stuff as dreams?
Yet, since I have vowed not to leave
a single word unsaid, let me conclude by
pledging these humble words at your feet –
if I were Hades, would you be my Persephone?
I promise to keep the world unthawed
and the winter, running all year long!