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Thursday, March 31, 2016

Can you carry me to the mountain side?
I can tell you about the ghost that competes time
He is old like every man that watches its roof
But he sleeps in the dark like a child in the daylight

At night, let’s meet to the river side, to find they said
For who wails the sonnet of his own crime
Whispers of their heart and some pretty line, spoken
By the touch of their feet and the waters of spring, greeted

They said, “My living spreads among the people and the dead”
“It’s misfortune if it’s in debts, it’s life that still complaints”
So tell me, can you take me to the side, where lands are not seen?
I carry their vows and their grief that are now brimmed.

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