May I start now before the barren land of sorrow takes away my highness?
Will it be appreciated my running away through her fields?
The horizon of our dullness, could it fulfil her gulf of numbness?
If the river is flowing along with the birds chirping, can it reach the sand of her shore? Not her virginity, but my debut can raise her hand's toast, and her lips will glitter our banished blundered beauty.
Forever will be your querencia my hiraeth?
Moments of time are momentum of blues, i