With its fir branches, green swords
that carve the wind with light,
I draw love in the sky.
I'm drawing a sad horse,
without petals, like the clouds
They cover it up with their silence.
I wanted to build a furnace out of sunlight,
to burn all the smiles in the world there,
to turn them into golden ashes, to scatter them
Upon the parched earth, so that man may be satisfied.
With the water's clean hands
I weave the mystery of life on the shores of fear.
I see endless faces, eyes as deep as springs,
streets that echo with the footsteps of brotherhood.
A light struggles within me
with the salty tear of the flesh;
It is my longing to climb high,
where the air breathes like a sharp sword.
Mom! My heart is a pomegranate
made of red-hot iron and love!
You showered me with the tears that fell
from the tear-filled eyes of the stars,
when they were praying for the world.
Death is a black guitar in the silence,
that no one touches, and yet
The song of the eternal night is playing.
And the search for the end—a wounded bull
which fills us with anxiety,
so that we might touch God's perfection.
The end is a stone circle,
a border, a closed door.
But the soul wants to go out barefoot at dusk,
to race through the streets of the universe.
But look at the moon! What a harsh, bright light!
We have only one life,
clad in the yellow and crimson hues of dawn,
with a thousand faces smiling toward the future.
Two pebbles at the water's edge
They showered us with all the sunshine in the world.
