Para Uma Menina Com Uma Flor

For a Girl with a Flower

Because you are a girl with a flower and a voice that doesn't go away, I promise you eternal love, unless you crash,
which, by the way, you never will because you wake up late, look withdrawn and like brigadeiro: I mean, the sweet made with condensed milk.

And because you are a girl with a flower and you cried at the Rome station because our suitcases went to Paris alone and you felt sorry for them leaving like that in the middle of all those foreign suitcases.

And because you dream that I'm leaving you behind, you transfer your ddc to my daily life, and tease me all day long as if it were my fault that you were so subliminal. And because when you started to like me, you tried to find out in every way with which sport shirt
I was going out to do love mimicry, dressing similar. And because you have a face that is always niche, even when you put your hair up, looking like a modern saint, and walk slowly, and talk at 33 revolutions without looking boring. And because you are a girl with a flower, I predict many years of happiness for you, at least until I get old: but only when I take a naughty stop to look back, then you can go away, I understand.

And because you are a girl with a flower and you have the walk of a medieval page; and because when you sing, not even a mosquito hears your voice, and you are out of tune beautifully and then fix it,
and sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night and sings like crazy. And because you have a little bear called Nounouse and you talk bad about me to him, and he listens and doesn't agree because he's really my friend, and when you feel lost and alone in the world you lie down holding him and cry like a fool making a beak this size. And because you are a girl who never blinks and your eyes were made on the first night of Creation, and you are capable of looking at me for hours. And because you're a girl who's afraid of seeing Face-in-the-Glass, and when I look at you for a long time you get nervous until I say I'm joking.
And because you are a girl with a flower and you have captivated my heart and you love mashed potatoes, I ask you to make me your Constant and Faithful Gentleman.

And since you are a girl with a flower, I also ask you to never leave me alone again, like this last month in Paris; It's all a silent, dark street that doesn't lead anywhere; the furniture stands still looking at me with pity;
It's such a huge void that women don't even dare to love me because they would give anything to have a poet mourning them like that, his hand on his chin, his leg crossed sad and that look that he doesn't see. And because you're the only girl I know with a flower, I wrote such a beautiful song for you, "My Girlfriend", so that when I die, you, if you don't die too, will lie there hugging me. Nounouse singing without voice that part where I say that you have to be the ultimate star, my friend and companion, in the infinity of both of us.

And since you are a girl with a flower and I am watching you climb now - so pure among the shameless marias - the slope that leads to our chalet, here in these mountains cut out by the hand of Guignard; and my heart, like when you told me you loved me, starts beating faster and faster.

And because I get up to gather you in my embrace, and the forest around us becomes rustling and fills with fireflies as the night descends with its secrets, its deaths, its terrors - I know, oh, I know that my love for you is made up of all the loves I have ever had, and you are the beloved daughter of all the women I have loved; and that all the women I loved, like sad statues along the alley of a night garden, passed you from hand to hand towards me, spitting in your face and placing garlands on your forehead; They passed you to me amidst songs, pleas and vociferations - because you are beautiful, because you are sweet and above all because you are a girl with a flower.