There were times when I heard some naughty ghost nWhispering “he died” in my earnAnd leading the wind so solemnlynI searched for you through the waves.nWell, maybe I was confused: you werenSleeping at your girlfriend’s home again.nSparing angels’ sighing songs we grew up, but whose blame?nThey will open the door one more time, nTo introduce another one dressed nIn your summer pants and shirt nAnd silently I’ll share his stunned point of viewnWithout protests.nThat young silver day shows now no menace at all. nWas it so far, two minutes ago?nYou don’t have to come home this time: nThe sun, with your voice, is walking away.nDelighted, it’s finally free.