Somewhere amidst the fugitive air,
Like birds in nomad flocks,
We know we are
The call and the answer:
...
You whisper:
People are not happy nor sad,
As if life were no longer an epos.
Write, write their silence:
...
In the evening
When the sea and the sky,
The ‘is' and the ‘is not'
Flood each other,
...
Your fingers are made of shadow,
Your skin: of light.
Your touch is the tear of a laughter.
You whisper:
...
I cry:
There are no nights more nocturnal than this one.
What's the use of the stars,
The millions of galaxies?
...
You ask: what is life?
I whisper: It is music.
You never know where the sound, the touch end
And where the pain begins.
...
Some nights
The buzzing in my eardrums breaks apart
Leaving in my room a sea of silence.
And I, an old ship,
...
It was the mortal light
That suckled the childhood of the day:
The savage milk.
...
I've sold you my little days.
Now I've returned from a faraway time
To get them back.
I can't pay you:
...
I wish I could surrender to earth
Like a moon:
Lit and quiet.
You say: the moon- it's a fountain of solitude.
...