My faraway you,

The drops of beautiful ghosts fall
On an empty body of lonely,
Like jade beads,
In the rhythm of a purl…
From the black thread, they keep on falling…

A large smile of poppy,
Under the soft wind sole,
Falls aphrodisiacal,
In a sad rhythm of one thought:
My faraway you!

It is a deserted summer
In the room without us,
It is dry of harmony
For the rain blinded window,
My faraway you!

The drops of mad ghosts fall
On satin sheets
Like jade beads
In a rhythm of beautiful smooth,
My faraway you!