In a small, secret space

 
In a small, secret space,
guarded with care and affection,
the ink bottles rest quietly,
each with its history and its defect.
There is ink from loves that are gone,
of passions that were extinguished in time,
of disappointments that cracked the heart,
of broken dreams that left their lament.
There is also ink of melancholy,
of moments lost in memory,
of tears that watered joy,
of hopes that still seek their victory.
In each bottle there is a sigh,
a whisper that keeps the essence
of sadnesses that weigh like a sigh,
of solitudes that seek their reward.
In this corner of ink and paper,
the soul is kept in each tonality,
each color is a piece of skin,
a story waiting to be told.
So let us take loving care of these bottles of ink and emotion,
these bottles of ink and emotion,
because in each drop there is a divine sparkle,
that speaks to us of love and passion.