Fate

It's 3rd August again.
How could I forget, on that 3rd August two years ago,
I was flying towards you.
Thousand miles, from my beloved home,
to your sweetland.

It's 3rd August again.
This time I am also flying towards you,
only hundred miles,
across the small channel.

Such a beautiful memorable coincidence,
the same date, the same reason, the same man.
This time I'm not flying to icy cold north,
but you, the naughty funky seagull,
fly to the warm southeast for this magical summer.

Jeg savner dig rigtigt meget, bare vil se dig igen.