Resurrection

On the threshold of my frail and half-open memory


I can see all the subtleties and mysteries


Happy and crazy reminiscences


Filling life with real discoveries.

I  see all my loves unfolding


Spreading in the breeze of my moods


Resurrecting all my old sweetness


Attracting my senses, a volcano to work.


I foresee a rather painful existence


Where I walked a lot on a winding path


Where I’ve had such a tortuous backhand


Where my conscience came out so peaceful.


Memory is a beacon on the distant shore


He guides us when we are free


When our sweet and sour memories, so heavy repeat


The lighthouse bodes for such intoxicating drinks!