The fiery masks
and the wind of an April
and isolated hearts
in the darkness of a courtyard
loves as experienced
and therefore already? you understand
in the mirror of two eyes
that look at life
but he will take your hand? close
then I will hold it to you?.
And the wind beats strong
on the last beach
it will be? like a seagull
praying in the fields
in the last hour
with the last thoughts
that pass through the mind
and make it helpless
but he will ask you
to make love
then to make love again.
And you, a woman in love, will be
the cradle of shyness.
And I hearts already? pierced
by a corner of the sun
immersed in a continuous
show of love
until? will there be? a god
to collect the voices
of fears never shouted
of words given away
and will not ask you? never anything taken for granted
never anything from the past
And the Indian clock
continues fast
and it takes a long time
if you want to remember
that moment of before
what? passed from the mind
which changed the emotions
and made them indifferent
but he will ask you?
one more emotion
and you won't give it to him
But you, a woman in love, will be
the cradle of tenderness
Flavors of green algae
return to the shore
and erase the present
on the faces of two lovers
who now they look out to sea
in the mirror of those eyes
that chase life as if it were already there? finished
What? will I hold you? the hand more? Are you sure
then I'll leave it to you?
And you, a woman in love, will know
what? tenderness
And will you, a woman in love, know
what? tenderness

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