August 24... It's been a year since
I do not miss a night at the Café,
and that I go out late with my friends
to dance, to drink and I don't know what else…
A year that I don't touch a tool
and that I talk to my mom every month,
I wake up in nap hours
and I go to bed at six o'clock.
Next to her love, it was a different life,
another life, more full of hope.
The pleasure of working and being cut off
from the cafe, the corner, the dancing.
Next to her love, it was nicer
the shirt ironed with starch,
the brushed jacket on Sundays
and a rose covering my heart.
August twenty-fourth, and in a year
How existence changes inadvertently!
For no reason, I raised my hand
and after, guilty, I cried.
My life is not the same. Everything is sad.
It's so sad that I don't even want to think.
A year ago, a year ago you left
but useless, I remember you much more.