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for
Wim
Right
now our voices wants to call you,
but the melodies of these voices, that you well
recognizes,
does not have the miracle nor the power to return you,
but have the magic tenderness of the love for saying that
we feel
strange without you.
And
now, remains us the echo of your words and your
gestures within our soul
like an unequivocal signal that always you will be at our side.
And
these slow tears that come off like stars flakes
from our eyes and within our hearts, are also slight sounds
tenderly rising for crossing this distance
that separates us today, and tell you that we love you
And
converting every day into intimate conversations, until to, in the measure
of
the time of everyone, let's be together again,
in order to be able with style and
particularity, to talk us as
if nothing had happened.
Rest
in Peace.
Francesc
Brunet-Llobet
Sabadell
( Barcelona) (Spain)
1956~2004
(Written
at end of April 1996 on the occasion of the death of his father)
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