The Fairies of the Wood were two.
Small in stature, with round faces,
heavy hips, large and bright eyes.
The first had a long and thin pointed nose,
the other had a big round and cheeky one.
They lived in a small low-ceiling house,
cluttered with dishes, dusty memories;
story and science and poetry books;
patched furniture, light, dreams never come true.
That house kept, like their heart,
the passing by memories from lives of friends, adults and children;
kings, queens, knights and squires;
wise men and villains.
It was the memory of the lives lived between joy and tears;
waiting for each day, always with resignation, with love.
The Fairies of the Wood knew how to talk to birds;
listen to their song,
sing their voices.
They knew how to rejoice in the joys of others
and cry about others' sorrows.
They knew how to play the most boyish games without care,
solve the most complicated chemical formulas.
In their world there were succulent dishes,
processed foods and sandwiches
coated with mayonnaise and anchovies.
There also were sophisticated embroideries and funny checked clothes
With ruffles, bows and charming crochet doilies.
Lights, perfumes, colours, intense sounds;
never sophisticated, but genuine, experienced.
The Forest Fairies had always been there,
to collect our joys and disappointments.
Then, one day, we realized that the light in their home had gone.
The fairies had silently flown away.
The small low-ceiling house was gone.
Forever gone from our lives,
they left a warm place of consolation and imagination,
to console us, pamper us, assist us, as children.