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I used to search for stars in the dark and the fig trees would smile. And there was a bat at our door, on its nightwatch. When? God knows when it was… Maybe I was a child. I used to keep silent, my silence was a poem… You used to look at me from a distance, in a way that caused pain. Your eyes were dark. I would embroider a rose onto the frame I held in my hands. Because the age of love back then was a whole lifetime. When? God knows when it was, life was spring, and maybe I was just a child. I forgot to live as I grew up. The book of warmness and full of life stories of the young, of colourful lives, loves that never wear away, of years smelling like strawberries and small joys… Youth only touches upon a person once throughout a lifetime. And life, is beautiful when one loves.