Question

un poema familiar elaborado en firt conditional de ingles

Answer 1

If I Were...
If I were a memory I’d hold you there forever
Reminding you of the good times we shared together

If I were a smile on your face I would stay
Never to let sadness chase me too far away

If I were a teardrop I’d roll gently down from your eyes
Not to burn much but to mend your sweet cries

If I were a hand I’d want you to hold me in your own
Carry me through life .. even when I’m grown

If I were feet I would stay inline with you
So I could be with you in all that you do

If I were a shadow I would always follow
We’d face things together in all the tomorrows

If I were pain I’d stay far away from the start
To make sure you never felt me or I never broke your heart

If I were a song I’d be a sweet sound to your ears
To keep up your hopes and carry you through the years

If I were strength I’d give you my all
I’d hold you high and never let your fall

If I were your heart I’d be steady and true
I’d be there in every beat; staying strong for you

If I were the sun I’d shine down upon your face
Illuminate your smile and radiate through your grace

If I were a star I’d sparkle like your eyes
I would look upon your life and never stop my shine

I don’t know how good at those things I could be
I’m not any of them but this I want you to see

If I were a friend I couldn’t let you down
I’d never let you fall or walk away from me with a frown

If I were a friend I would hold your hand
I would be with you always, I hope you understand

If I were a friend I would give you my all
And though it’s not much, I’ll be there when you call

If I were a friend I’d be in every memory too
When you laughed, when you cried, I’d be with you

I CAN be these things, it’s not impossible to be a friend
I CAN be your best and I’ll be here till the end

If I were forever, you would be too
Together forever – me and you… 

Answer 2

Respuesta:

Shrouded in golden leaves,

we wait.

The world doesn’t end at sunset

and only dreams

limit themselves to things.

Through a labyrinth of blank hours

time leads us on

as autumn falls

over our house, our patio.

Shrouded in a relentless fog

we wait, we wait:

nostalgia means to live without remembering

the word we are made of.

Explicación: