By Eddy Montilla.
Yesterday, I sat near the river under that walnut tree,
the one that served for years as our meeting point,
the one that knew my secrets and thoughts.
Today, its roots dried up and its branches are gone.
This is the way time flies, this is the way my love died.
Yesterday, I wanted to walk through that poplar grove
where I used to hang the trees with memories and hopes
If you could see this place today…
It’s only a sad path full of burrs and prickles,
like the elderly man, it got tired of waiting,
and the worst part was not all those years of loneliness,
but some days of uncertainty when we thought you will never be back.
Yesterday, I wanted to go to that garden
that place where the air was filled with the scent of tuberoses,
but today, even the flowers denied me their perfume
What did I do? What should I say?
I stood hesitating on the threshold of the church
where I saw you many times murmuring litanies
in your imaginary world full of promises and faith,
looking up the sky, looking for response…
And I went to the walnut tree, the poplar grove, the garden and the church
looking for you again, and again and again…
Because I know that some day you will be back
perhaps not to my side or to not be on our bed,
but I am sure you will be back
because the sun rises every day
and, every day, your memories come crowding into my mind.
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