The Beauterfly Never Dies
From the cold weather that ends
in the mist of the drops of springs,
tenderly warm and happy
the beauterfly starts to rise.
Beautiful colors in its wings
shadow from the hot sun,
my wife wakes up from a sleep
when the beauterflies take the leap.
The heat of the sun evaporates the water
when they trill to drink,
as the water on wife's hair
they emerge to the unknown scene.
Waiting for the next shadow of winter
my wife and the beauterflies are waiting,
to start the nest cycle of life
tenderly mild and expetedly.
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