O banco de jardim / Garden bench

Estonia - True love leaves no traces 

Costumavas esperar-me no jardim, sentado num banco vermelho. Um daqueles bancos com nomes gravados, a lembrar que já tinham sido o lugar do Amor, de alguém.

Agora era o nosso banco.

Esperavas-me lá, e eu ia.

E ali ficávamos, eu, tu e o nosso banco. Testemunha.

Um dia começou a haver dias que não me esperavas. E começou a haver dias que eu não ia. E o banco olhava os dias, apenas, intranquilo.

Agora estamos sós, eu, tu, o banco.

O banco do jardim, o banco do Amor que fomos.

***

You used to wait for me in the garden, sitting on a red bench. One of those with engraved names, remembering that place had been of Love, someone’s love.

Now it was our bench.

You waited for me there, and I went to you.

And there we were, me, you and our bench. Witness.

One day it began to be days that you didn’t waited for me. And it began to be days that I wouldn’t go. And the bench looked at the days, restless.

Now we are alone, me, you, the bench.

The garden bench, the place of the Love we were.