Who is embracing these walls in a deep silence?
Maybe be the time, sleeping over the pillars.
Never forgot what it has done to all who listen in.
Devour all spring, even if it is the most beautiful
These walls of houses are building by the memories.
Made of non-material, coming from the distant harbors,
Where the seas have no boats, regrets, or ending.
Seeds of wishes are blowing away, untouched by the time.
The great passions of the time are castles made of stones
Carved by wind, breaking the silence over the hills,
Raising a universe by itself, surrounded by ditches of death.
An old body dressed in rocks searching for source,
Wish lit the fire in the shadows of warm nights.
Extinguished Torches on the walls, is the fate of tomorrow.
Looks to wait in eternity the meeting of these waters,
Although far away ..... Dreams are made of rocks.
The silence comes and nestles in the dew of thin grass,
The maidenhair ferns are the flaps sewn by the time
In spring in one day will open in petals of illusion.
The movements of the wind broken the silence, and move the earth.
It does the life to die and wake up by the dreams of others time
A carousel spinning, flashing, and playing with the clouds.
Truths hidden in the sleeves of the greatest illusionist.
The matter is the same light that rises on the walls of time.