When i learned to cross my hands through your fire
you shouted for the first time that i was consuming you
and, in your mind
without my place,
i put back the flame in the palm of your hand
to keep it as a tattoo of youth
and put it down on a pedestal next to your soul
when the burning of the time will discharge your years
the flaming words will transform in roar.
But fear not,
I will be the oxygen atom
The last word
In a passionate final quatrain.
Am pus aici o traducere, pentru ca am sesizat eu ca asta lipsea cu desavarsire (astept corecturi…).