in the Rocking Chair of Madeira

Then you say that you listen to me,
And how I know that your hands
They support my waist,
If still(yet) feeling
The fret of your fingers
I feel Intact.

What will be?,
And there is no echo.

The mergers happen strange.

I have yearned so much you to belong(concern)
That I do not know
If still then
I will be sat in the rocking chair of wood.

And do not interrupt,
Do not cut this flower,
Already you threw(shot) my little castle of letters,
Now what am I going to make I?,
I knew then your response
And I understood the great thing
That you me had wanted.

You repeated I, I,
Only five times …