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In the silences of twilight, I merge with the colors of a tempestuous dream,
Spirits whistling through galaxies of shattered darkness,
I speak with the passion of falling stars, a symphony of souls,
In a cascade of golden whispers, in the heart of the crimson night.
I have been the guide of shadows, the medium for lost hearts,
Trying to gather the essence of stars fallen on the shores of time,
Between duets of moon rays and peach blossoms at full sunset,
I gathered forgotten dreams, ravaged by blue waves.
Every evening, leaving the jade roses to keep watch,
I embraced the artists of the night, those who paint scarlet skies,
In a secret tale, where Mars dances every two years,
Under the plum sky, torn by transparent passion, like an endless longing.
In the quiet of enchanted houses, I felt secret vibrations,
People called by purple sunsets, transformed into nights of silence,
In a corner of golden-rust, the family reunited in secret carols,
Our destinies intersected, like playful rays of the sun.
Through the orchard of golden flowers, I colored my canvases with dreams,
Each brushstroke, a frenzy of sweet shades,
Until I fell asleep in the arms of shadows, captured by a black-and-white slumber,
And from that sleep, the colors returned, like an unwavering promise.
Slowly, houses with tumultuous lives emerged, and cars with butterfly wings,
Airplanes like fragrant moments, arriving at their destination,
Just as my prediction, like a true psychic, had announced,
For nature washes its cheeks in humble green, sparkling with unbounded joy.
Like a sleepy summer dreamer, I dreamed of endless beauties,
So grateful for this world full of colors,
Which time has sifted with golden majesty,
I transformed into quicksilver, in love with the glittering spectrum of life.

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