Eveningred

13-01-2010




I saw the beauty of eveningred

behind the horizon of my sleeping bed
I turned to the sun in gentle blue

and said to the girl: how do you do?



She said to me: I’m feeling nice
I wish I was in paradise.

I saw the beauty of eveningred
behind the dreams here in my head.

x

Undoubtedly conceivable


If he can paint reality


without imagination, as it is

where people think

Ventilate opinions

then he probably paints

a skater on thin ice

or a weary Mayor

but not reality

fantasy without expecting



undoubtedly



dawns on him in

words and doubts

to begin again

if he can paint

without losing reality





better feeling than thought

that time doubted

and people do not feel

how he staggers to abyss

difficult by descent

the fate of his writing

where youth again passes

when the times



conceivable



completed in change.