The moon turned sad. Of seraphim in tears
Dreaming, the bow in the fingers, in the calm

Of transparent flowers, shooting of dying viols
Of white tears rolling on the blue of corollas.
-- It was the blessed day of your first kiss.
My affectionate reverie tormented me.
It cleverly intoxicated me with the scent of sadness
That even without regret or lingering disappointment
The gathering of a Dream to the heart that has gathered it.
I wandered there, my eye glued to the old pavement
When the sun on your hair, in the street
And in the evening, you appeared to me with a laugh
And I thought to see the fairy with hat of light
Who once passed by my sweet spoiled child’s sleep
Always letting his badly clenched fists
Sprinkle white bouquets of fragrant stars.

03/11/08