Tantas Cosas

If you leave, the trees in the park
will keep growing, this autumn will pass.
Two new solitudes will join,
they will tell lies, we will continue crazy.
In the Metro you will smile asleep on your way to class
and I as always maybe arrived late.
I will keep closing bars and memories.
I will never learn to retire on time.
I will sleep on the street, I will kiss other fires.
The city in your absence will keep growing,
devouring lives, turning them into smoke.
Others will fulfill the plans we made,
that we didn't finish, making them their own.
You will keep crying in some cinemas,
forgetting everything you learned.
A thousand children will be born and new songs,
and maybe one, maybe, will carry your name.
New simulations, new confessions.

If you leave, the trees in the park
will keep dying and so will my faith.
I will keep forgetting my keys
when leaving home, and maybe on your skin
there will be someone hiding their tiredness,
all their fears, or maybe their lips.
So many, so many things will keep happening,
that maybe things won't change us so much.

So many, so many things.

But if you leave, these days will be
that dirty and empty strip of beach
that remains when you are gone,
when the sea retreats and the tide goes out.
I will be tired and maybe older,
cursing these dead days.
So many, so many things will keep happening,
that maybe things won't change us so much.

So many, so many things.