I am waiting, dear,
In the silent field.
Thoughts are blowing mild,
All among your trees.

I am waiting distant
At a broken hour.
Steps would follow ways
All along your dreams.

I would tell the story,
That about two skies,
Playing with the stars
When the clouds are snoring.

I had asked the trees
To invent leaves longing
Who could call them back
In the twilight home.

Only in these moments
If you only come,
I would then become,
The song of the torrents.

And then you would know
Poppy cloud horizon
Is a kiss of skies
Shielded by the sun.

Grass is growing bright
And the light is falling
Counting stars at night,
One by one, and lulling.

I stay on the field.
The moon keeps receding.
Better you leave now,
Since her heart is waiting.