I would put in a box:
All those critics about myself,
how people imagine me to be like;
All those moments in which I’ve cried thousands of tears
for my lost lovers;
All those bad remarks that I’ve made
about God himself and his creation,
For it’s only me who should be blamed
and punished for my mistakes;
All those sad memories from my childhood
in which I’d given up hope;
All those rainy days, but maybe I’d keep a few
for my own discovery;
All those quarrels between you and me
that led to our separation, but not to hate.
My box is made of dreams and wonders
and the key that opens it is just my memory;
And I would send this box to you, my dear friend,
so when you’ll open it you’ll find out
How different I am and how I’ve changed.