Regalame that field of wild violets,
nourish a flash of unfinished
Returnsmy last brother of your shadow,
Allende is nostalgia planets armed
routes are no longer warm miracles
Neither the remote light of a time that has not been
Scale abrupt mirror in which I am,
Stigma faithful in your eyes made smile when
The alone invokes a word in my shame,
A clear and fertile word that was never caress.
The voice of your memory shelters me, burning of
evenings silence, under your hand can still vibrate
The fire, if broken into the night to moan
A piano, a complete illusion, as the dawn
Consume, unstoppably, in light of our stars.
Regalame goodbye to blue violet, not spell,
order not to perish in the back of your embrace remote.
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