Someone was whispering in my right ear:
In a life without aim
We can escape
Chasing the perpetual movement
...
My happy homeland
And its celebrated image
For these past times
Going to an undefined aim
...
It was a trail
Rolled up as a long memory
I used to walk upon it every evening
...
A frozen afternoon
Hallways of loneliness
Were opening new dimensions
...
Wild Horses
Someone was whispering in my right ear:
In a life without aim
We can escape
Chasing the perpetual movement
Of the inner self to the center …
All around me
Spheres were turning
Spaces were delineated
Desires were burned down to ashes
Smoke and the absurd
Of the present moment
Darken
The memory of a time
Where wild horses
Were grazing freely
The ember tasting graze
Caii salbatici.Translate in English for Rosalba Valle