A breeze blows, and shakes the leaf,Rocks a wave across the sea.On the horizon without end,A voice amid the waves calls me.
It is a siren, it is a fairy,That I can hear but cannot see.They are the memories we left right here,That I will meet when I return.
Oh, I know not, but the voice on the shore,Feels like a kiss upon the wave.It searches somewhere and finds a path,Like a bird it comes and chirps its words.
Like your kiss, that I keep on my body,Like your hand upon my ribs.It will warm me in the month of February,It will cool me when the heat arrives.
This little wave with its raised mane,That comes to shore and softly strokes.A blessing fallen from your lips,With the beauty and scent of daisies.
And this sun lounger, sitting all alone,Beneath the sunbeams, slightly shy.Never in its life had it ever felt,Arms like yours, a body like yours.
So it sits lonely, stays on the edge,Silent and wordless, looking up high.For it will hold no other creature,Only the one who left, who was art.
It recalls your curly hair in a thousand cascades,It recalls your shoulder swaying so lightly.Like nymphs running through a fairy tale,Only the clouds have horses of dreams.
I pause for a moment, I hear hey, hey,It is a voice plunged in the deep.I hold my breath and look beyond,Could it be your voice hidden somewhere.
It is not your voice, it is but a leaf,Calling out from a burnt tree,Our love has woken it from within,Like your breast rising above the sea.
Let the air, the light, and the wave kiss it,Just as I hold your breast in my hands.My desire, my feeling, my word kisses it,Like the moon passing over Athens.
We hurry onward, you to Tirana,I to London along with the clouds.Even if the burnt trees wither away,They hold our love in Kineta.
We took some photos, a burnt leaf,We cannot take the mountain, sea, forest, or earth.They were born to grow and to steal,The beautiful memories that make the world bloom.
We left our souls in them, we left our feelings there,In a little stone or even in the sand.We left our eyes there, where we saw the truths,In a summer of love in the wide world.
We left our footprints on the wave-swept shore,Which the sea would take and pull into the deep.We left our kisses there, we left a thousand words,We have planted them forever in the fields of the sea.
We left our steps there with a rhythm like music,When we walked down together, holding hands.The moon looked on from the cloud in fear,Was it feeling shy, or standing guard for us?When you whispered words of love,In the quiet night, under a star-filled sky.You cast the moon and the stars into dreams,And the trees swayed gently in the woods.
And the moon came down to the window nearby,Leaning its head in, with longing and desire.To cast its rays on your sapling-like body,Until the morning, when it left at dawn.
You lay on your stomach with your arms stretched out,Like two rivers that flow and thunder.Where the light fell, I would sit down to drink,In the silence of the night where the trees rustle.
The moon cast its light, I placed my lips,Right where your skin became like crystal.The breeze rode past and pulled the rope,To my hurried breath, you whispered, stop!
How could I stay silent, how could I rest,When the breast on your body turned a purplish hue.How could I quench the fire, how could I spoil the game,When the breast on my lips played and rejoiced.
The fire of love cannot be quenched with water,We know this well, for we feed it ourselves.With the beating of our hearts, a river of chaos,Until we fall like true heroes.
I seek to enter deep into your soul,You want to take me deep into your soul.The bed and the room begin to pray,From our happiness, they rejoice as well.
The stars take the sky, the waves take the sea,We dance together in a blessed dance.The caresses and kisses wake the whole city,Dreaming of a kiss from Penelope.
The years go by, Kineta with its deep waves,We have left our souls and our feelings there.They are the planted shoots of love,That enter the soul and shine in our eyes.
Wherever we flee, wherever we go,The beautiful memories will follow us.Sometimes we will have them as a muse for our verse,And sometimes as dreams that we will touch.
Like little children we left our memories last year,In the streets of Kineta, and in Athens too.Through the months they will rock our joys to sleep,And wait for next year, for us to return!
This year the memories turned two years of love,Next year they will come out to meet us.For love is like the flowers in the field,It has grown within our very own fields.
They will turn three years old, they will stand on their feet,They will go out to the road, they will wait for us there.With curly hair like yours, and a song on their lips,Their beautiful eyelashes washed full of dew…
And we, like two parents deeply in love,Will scoop them right up, will lift them up high.We will caress them with our lips and our hands,Our little girl love, to turn her into art…
We will raise her with kisses, as a flower is raised,With petals of lips, that look just like yours.Right there where my lips play and settle down,To gather the honey so sweet and so soft…
