THE SONG OF LOVE LOST
You remember blooming violets, with our words “we will not let us never, never and never.” I would tell you the same thing now, but as soon as they do, love, roses to wither. So for us, the love that pulls the hair is lost now, it just has a few listless caress and a little tenderness. And when you find yourself in the hands of the flowers withered in the sun, a now far in April, you will regret. But it will be the first down the street you meet, you kick up gold for a kiss never given, for a new love. It will be the first you meet on the street, you kick up gold for a kiss never given, for a new love.
(Fabrizio de André)