It was so nice the name I chose for you,
even if the real one was different,
since it sounded dull, did not sing out
from its strings, the wish to see you again,
the music of you throbbing steps of fawn,
compasses in the night, by which I try
to gauge the distance between us.
i just cannot accept a dull echo
of that roaring red of your hair,
which in the dark room ignores the walls
awaking, with imperious tone, my sleep.
i'm sekking just a shelter from being aware
of your presence here, that you belong
to another man.