The pharmacist

 

 

 

When I was a child
I was dreaming of run into a pharmacist
which could create a potion
to make me fall in love with her.

Make a magic potion for me,
my lovely pharmacist,
and put in it your eyes, your hair,
your mouth, your hands.
But don’t care about love:
I’ll put it by myself
along with the way to repair
that damn broken shell.

Some time ago
I finally met a pharmacist.
She made the potion
and I fell in love with her.

Make a magic potion for me,
my sweet pharmacist,
and put in it your eyes, your hair,
your mouth, your hands.
But don’t care about love:
I’ll put it by myself
along with the way to repair
that damn broken shell.

Her potion has now become a deadly poison
slowly killing me
but before I die
I’ll tell her, with my slight last breath, once again:

Make a magic potion for me,
my beautiful pharmacist,
and put in it your eyes, your hair,
your mouth, your hands.
But don’t care about love:
I’ll put it by myself
along with the way to repair
that damn broken shell.

The way to repair
that damn broken shell…

(End of October, 2018)

 

 

 

               

Lascia un commento

Il tuo indirizzo email non sarà pubblicato. I campi obbligatori sono contrassegnati *