love(?)
before we're the ones
to die in their graves?
When life can be
as brief as a song:
below, touch the heart of Music;
and above, Music will turn you
into a million fragments
of time
across different lives.
What is its life
but a million times,
below—the Earth, its pulse.
What is its time?
but a million lives,
above—the soul, its god.
Listen to its symphony,
its days and nights,
and you will be
in every one of them;
compose them,
and you will possess
its time and life.
What's the myth of music
but to break the sky of time
and let all eternity fall through itself
—if every story’s heart
can become the heart of music,
every story can be eternal.
But, how many poets must die,
my love?
And what's dead
if we touch every sky?