“Pedal, my little brother,
Pedal-
The road ahead is long.

Where time goes as it passes,
Where the golden bank of time is,
And who stands guard.

Who writes us,
Who sings us,
Who erase us.

We are born like meteors, cast into darkness,
Lighting the path as we fall.

Pedal, my little brother,
Pedal-
There is no other way
But untimely arrival.

Day stands outside my room,
Leaning on its colorful cane,
Shaking loose the remnants of fall
Clinging to its clothes,
The rain murmurs to itself, as always-
A rain that washes away the predictions,
Falling wherever it pleases.

Wagtails,
Perched on the minaret of sufferings,
Sing a vague song of treasures,
Tits,
Carrying tiny bundles of light on their backs,
Awaken the sisters of the breeze
In the shade of the fig trees.

Sparrows gossip in their native tongue,
The termite’s basket overflows
With damp, splintered wood.

A light rain falls,
And gulls hurriedly pack their small bags,
On their scarves
Two tiny spots of blood-
The mark of two brave birds
Perished beneath the sea.
The Hour:
Twelve twenty-five past noon,
The world unfolds before my eyes like a blooming flower.

Mother!
Stand between me and these seabirds,
Between me and the winds, and the asters,
Whispering to themselves,
While the black nightingales endlessly sneeze.
Mother!
Be a shield between me and this autumn afternoon,
It wants to claim me,
And hand me over to someone I don’t know. ”

“I love you,
The light that shines from within you,
Illuminating my path.

I love the darkness in your cloud,
Falling in reverence to the light,
Your rivers,
Greeting the pebbles- and my thorns.

I love your sea,
Created only to drown me.

And this dazed, dreaming clock,
Lost in sleep for two days,
Grants me a little longer to see you.”

“This ship,
With two golden eels
As blind sailors-
Is called the clock.

And this purple bubble,
We call it the sky among ourselves,
Is the helmet of the king of angels.

And crystalline hail,
Falling on this paper vessel,
Meant to carry us all away.

I still don’t know why there was such insistence
For us to be born,
Only to leave us,
Unable even to hear its voice.
”