Simple words that could fly like a kite over to you. But I have to keep my kite anchored and secured, otherwise it will fall. So I keep it tight, and slowly raise it, and raise it, and raise it. Holding the line close to my heart. Hoping that it will rise high enough so that you can see it from where you are. And maybe you'll catch a glimpse of it one day, and you'll think of me.
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -- because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.
Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart.
Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,
because in that moment you'll have gone so far I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking, Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?