It is a poem wirtten bei Martin March, that I describe in my textile art:
I won`t tell you the last word,
nor will I write the last verse,
And when I get home,
I will hug you as always.
And together we`ll see how
the sun plunges into the dark waters,
And the reddish skies
They fade away in that kiss…
And, my word will not be my last,
And it won`t be my last verse
And the hugs will last all night.
