By the River Piedra I sat down and wept. There is a legend that everything that falls into the waters of the river - leaves, insects, the feathers of birds - is transformed into the rocks that makes the riverbed. If only I could tear out my heart and hurl it into the current, then my pain and longing would be over, and I could finally forget.
By the River Piedra I sat down and wept. The winter air chills the tears on my cheeks, and my tears fall into the cold waters that course past me. Somewhere this river joins another, then another, until - far from my heart and sight - all of them merge with the sea.
May my tears run just as far, that my love might never know that one day I cried for him.
- The best part of Paulo Coelho’s “By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept”.