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Brought us an unusual dream, this storm, which they are tears which heal our hearts.

In the sad wind, we accumulate the secrets of such feelings.

Retreat of the travelers, the children of Bacchus, are resting on the slopes of wine, thirsty for art, magic and love.

Flourishes the tenderness in the midst of the waters that overflow in our eyes, but we can hear other voices when the moon shines.

Come in the dense rain, full mourning, was slowly a crowd of clouds in the horizon that hid the sun on the shores of the world.

Finally arrives, another white light that extends in the corners of the night.

The stars illuminate our gray hair and they hide us in this deep ocean that it arrived across of the storm.

We lost us in place so wide, where the birds fly looking for enchanted kingdoms, float in the world of the anguish, in the dialectic of the dream, and so, they fall asleep in the braids of trees that tell stories during the evening.

We are hidden in solitude, but, why is she hurt our feeling?

Is the pain, a sailing ship that brought the most valuable poems in stormy seas where is sailing my heart?

Immersed in the storm of pure feelings, we breathe the prophecy of our lyrical wish.

Where are the lives saved from the heart of the flower?

Sweet are the kisses suits, but where is the love?

The deep breath expands the flame of the lamp reflected in our eyes.

The white mist dies wearing the most beautiful of veils.

The rain falls on the glass of the window and the tears on the risks of our face.

Who could have something, unless, uncertainties in the stormy life?

We will be in our lonely bed, and the petals will fly because of our last whisper and they will fall like a rain in our tired body.

So, the heart will rest in the profound storm of the love.