I want to walk with you tomorrow, at night, on our familiar hillside,

holding your left hand, I want to promise to the winds, then to the sky.

When I whisper to the wind, kiss me on the right cheek, gently.

When I shout to the sky, embrace me tightly, lest I will fall.
Proclaiming my love out loud to the sky, I want to pour my heart to you;

my dear, hear me, this is what I am, what I am and what I am.

Hearing all this, let the gentle breeze cool your body and your heart.

I hope you find peace with yourself and in me, as I have in you.
I have bequeathed my heart to you, as to no one else:

Not to my mother and to my sister, and not to any friend.

When I am laid six feet under, at this hillside, among violet flowers,

Wrap it in rose petals, burn some incense sticks, and bury it nearby.


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