Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.

There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.

And our problems will crumble apart, the soul / blow through like a wind, and here where we live will all be clean again, with fresh bread on the table.

The morning is full of storm in the heart of summer. The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye, the wind, travelling, waving them in its hands. The numberless heart of the wind beating above our loving silence. Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees like a language full of wars and songs.

To love is to tilt with the lightning, two bodies routed by a single honey's sweet.

The Ardent Hymn that Unites Peoples.

Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth.