To be like the assorted flower,
Waiting for the first drops of rain
To be like the pale color fish,
...
My smile misses you
My words miss you
My intelligence misses you
My enthusiasm misses you
...
The love of swans is like the sweetness of the rain
Clear and clear as the first morning dew
The love of the swans is adorned with cries of the sun shining every second
...
I do not read as we can claim
I do not read as bound eyes and memory attached to it
I read through my memories
...
Poet in all his states
The poet runs in the forest of words
He captures here and there the fruit of freedom
...
My husband of the blooming woods. 🌲🌲
You the lawyer of our thousand moons flowers you are
...
I captured with me the lenses of my eyes
More than an infinite number of souls
Dancing, singing, rolling souls, fixing
...
If your soul is a mountain
And your eyes his sun
Nothing will obscure it by inappropriate senses
...
This morning in the small motorized coach
My song of the summer of my 30 years
Had gone with her.
Like a shooting star leaving behind her
...
It's funny when sadness is my perfume
The small leaf jigged by the wind
Waved me to play with her
...
The love of swans is like the sweetness of the rain
Clear and clear as the first morning dew
The love of the swans is adorned with cries of the sun shining every second
...
You are the card of my first senses, I am going to explore the corners of your glamorous woods
To you the small mount aquiline
Who felt the first perfumes of my source of life, my mother
...
I feel vibrate the impulses of my heart
In my fingers so shy and jovial and hot
...
When Everything Is Gone, It Remains To Be
To be like the assorted flower,
Waiting for the first drops of rain
To be like the pale color fish,
Waiting for the first rays of the moon
To be like the motionless tree,
Waiting for the first breaths of the wind
To be like the icy mountain,
Waiting for the first notes of the summer
To be like the captive crisalid,
Waiting for the opening of his wings
To be like the silent bird,
Waiting for the first light of the dawn
To be like the tarciturn waves,
Waiting for the first currents
To be like the impatient child,
Waiting for the first words of his parents
To be like the lonely horizon,
Waiting for the first glances of those who hope
To be like sleepy eyes,
Waiting for the sandman
To be like you,
To be like me
To be like us
Waiting for the sign of a new enlumination
To be reborn from all that is no longer
But who will have to be