On the foundation
An old and great oasis
For a new kind of thirst
That is happy to exists
And in its pain does not deviate.
The old story of passion
For a body that knowing it
That cordially assumes without wasting
Like the beard accepting a thorn in its skin.
The heart opened with a bite
And with smiling lips
And the lips are moving
Not even grazing the new sin again.
Nothing matters when something is worthwhile
And even though the sun does not stop before the light
Or the intelligence is not despised by wisdom
A great sadness leaves its trace in every difference
She was born without perceiving the ideadirecting her
But understanding the ideal that developing her persistence
In the center of one who aspired another
When from a possible target, becomes a probable companion.
So that then and always
The weapons be only a few
And the reasons very poor
And thus will be possible to be quiet during the battle
On behalf of one who is confused and does not want to disorient.
So that crying does not hurt the one who finds
The escape from the arrows of a constant enemy
That masters the slope of each leaf in the forest
And one who wants to give a precise cut in the heels
To see instantaneously the chin sinking in the mud
But to be possible for one who build in peace
His own flag of undecipherable struggle
Razing the truth of his intention
With decades or seconds of fidelity
From his tower that was built
Passing over the law of its foundation.