The birds fly
in the turquoise sky
upon golden fields
bleached blond by the sun
in a summer of fire
volcanos boil over
among jets of lava
that plough valleys
surrounded by mountains
like luxurious crowns
that adorn queens
in fairy tales and castles
made of towers and doors
defenders of households
in villages and towns
so many people
who've never seen a desert
where the sand lives
on the shores of the sea
and shells glitter
together with necklaces and ear-rings
embroidered with precious stones
found in mines
among deep caves
in bottomless oceans
they recall dreams
that fly as freely
as birds do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem