Per Al Meu Amic

I can sell my soul to the devil and my body to the rest
and rent out even the guitar for money or break my image as if it were made of plaster
or gamble my hope on 'seven and a half'.
But not this flying and small poem.
Taste of love.
Pomegranate color that I've written for my friend...
You're good
You're sweet
You're manly.
Alcohol will destroy my liver and the harness my skin,
the smoke my lungs and the men their brains.
You can leaf through my dreams, snatch my memories
and tear apart my tears and verses, games and loves.
But not this flying and small poem.
Taste of love.
Pomegranate color that I've written for my friend...
You're good
You're sweet
You're manly.
I've been lucky with women, which is already a lot,
and in my hands the spring, which is saying something.
I've climbed where the snow burns and fallen into the pit.
Ask me for whatever you want, I have it all.
But not this flying and small poem.
Taste of love.
Pomegranate color that I've written for my friend...
The good
The sweet
The manly.