Chapter 1
In a coffin of joyful memories,
I'm placed in their heart with passion,
To hear my voice in their imagination,
Each night, like a cloud of emotion.
Among verses of my ancient books,
I'm taken to funerals and distant lands,
They discuss my words of life or death,
Blessing or curse, without fear of fate.
A little bird told me I'm placed,
In libraries and collection pamphlets,
To seek me in the early dawn,
And weep alongside God with a blood-stained embrace.
I see the apple of my eye, Mayar,
Leap for a yes of true love,
And the cardboard gangster, imprisoned,
Begging for alms with a poetic verse.
Don't touch the door, you don't know if I'm here,
I leave a guarding spirit to protect you,
From crazy time and problems that fly,
When I'm with you, all fear me.
I'm punctual and swift, I strike to kill,
The soul, I know what it feels,
To have me in your hands, feel powerful,
Capable of reaching the moon with a sparkle.
You look at me, I look at you, you squeeze,
I'm here, like a ghost from the past,
That doesn't know how to love anyone more,
Than the wings of your eyes, buying and selling me.
My letters are bullets that reach your memories,
Like a dream you had forgotten,
I'm young or old, you don't know,
But what you can be sure of, is that I carry danger.
I'm dangerous, I'm a market,
Of prophetic psalms and oil,
My words, a Christmas gift,
To remind you, by life's mistake.
