My mother’s sadness if I was dead, my mother’s sadness. My mother’s loneliness if I was dead, my mother’s loneliness. My mother’s joy if was annoyed by the ugly noise of suicide, my mother’s joy. My mother’s hapiness if I was endless-ly running, running, on the ponds of life, on the grass of forgotten lies, my mother’s hapiness. My mother’s coughs when I can’t sleep, my mother’s coughs. My mother’s illness when I go fast, fast mad as a bee, my mother’s illness. My mother’s beauty when she forgets, her chubby hands opened on a little book of hers, the darkness of regrets, my mother’s beauty. My mother’s shining as she turns, and she closes, her wide eyes and with them smiles, my mother’s shining. My mother’s love, like a veil, like no spade, keeps me alive. I’d never want to die…! I’d never want to die…
