Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.

I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.

La heradera del dia destruida. (The heiress of the destroyed day.)

Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss.

Give me, for my life, all lives, give me all the pain of everyone, I'm going to turn it into hope. Give me all the joys, even the most secret, because otherwise how will these things be known? I have to tell them, give me the labors of everyday, for that's what I sing.

What can I say without touching the earth with my hands?

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrence risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. and: No one can stop the river of your hands, your eyes and their sleepiness, my dearest. You are the trembling of time, which passes between the vertical light and the darkening sky. and: From the stormy archipelagoes I brought my windy accordian, waves of crazy rain, the habitual slowness of natural things: they made up my wild heart.