I’ve crucified the hands of the final clock, in silence
I’ve crucified the hands of the final clock, in silence,
Time, suspended, hangs life in eternal pain,
Circling the universe, searching for your flower of color,
Lost among the stars, in planetary systems, like a calling.
I swear by what I feel, on earth I have found myself,
Beyond the belt, majestic, enduring, like an unfulfilled dream,
Through the dust of stamens, compact and virile, uninterrupted,
Our love grows, an immeasurable pistil, a silent thought.
Seeds chosen from impure stars have sprouted in us,
Budding in your dreams and mine, like a string of rains,
Morning wakes us from eternal vice, slaves to love,
Yawning, we drag ourselves to work, burdened by nature's memories.
On the way, you gift me, gratefully, a deceived smile,
Thinking of the confabulating night, an unlimited, tempted dream,
From every moment of memory, a few obscene whispers,
Nature reciting to lost gazes, lightning, eternal rains.
Storms outlined with the thrills of ancestral sins,
Finding delight only in me, an astral season,
Immeasurable delight, a dance of shadows and light,
In me, the place where sins and dreams intertwine in peace.
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