A painter's hand has drawn this evening sky
With brushes pink and distempers purple,
An evening outlet to an Eternity of visions.
Whether you choose to melt defenses built,
Or to rest reserved in a Solitude of fear,
This sky is going to be your condemnation
And your redemption at once.
In the Love of an instinct fate leads this course
With roses stray on floors you climb.
This evening sky, this purity hides a storm abysmal and unexpected
Like the hand that grasps you from this world and takes you to the other side,
Near these clouds, next to an evening sky.