At Least the Snow

On the ancient garden where
we used to feel the fire
my hands livid as the earth,
a robin sings on thorns.
I watch this silence by the window,
I'm so tired to bleed inside,
bleed inside.
I call you on the telephone,
The city streets closed down
on the frozen land.
You're always been so kind
to deal up with my absence
on and on.
I wished upon the snow,
I wished upon,
I wished upon the snow,
At least the snow.
Sclerosis of the skin:
I hear something crackle
and I'm afraid for my soul,
from my hole.
My father's cheeks are red again,
I need his strength to live in this frozen land
I hold grandmother's hand,
she's wrapped on her shawl,
seems like a child.
I wished upon the snow,
I wished upon,
I wished upon the snow,
At least the snow.