red push
reeds
boarding
a crepe in the jacket
carried out of the church.
 
Nebbia whipped cream
open her eyelids
before the awakening of the dew
milky-eyed
sweet almond frog eggs
and plate the mare.
 
awakening
in orthogonal coordinates
tripping over the rope
to walk
as a precaution
at the bottom of the valley
that it is complete
time for a break
to swoon over pure water
morning space
let the body ablution.
 
Still and serene
despite his mustache
the frame is mirrored
in its reflection.
 
Spread
the silences
on the train step.
 
 
617

By fidelity to the source    
love and die.        
 
seal point    
at the bottom of the page.        
 
Cross the ford barefoot    
purifies the heart.        
 
Go back     
do not pay mine.        
 
Touch time   
seals the memories.        
 
Crouched on the edge of the cliff    
the earth rotates.        
 
Turn up the iron wheel    
would have sufficed.        
 
In sandals go down to the fountain    
wake up the wyvern.        
 
From exile to exile    
weave survival blanket.        
 
And laugh    
laugh above the clouds.        
 
Without tearing the fabric    
the road is long.        
 
To feel accompanied    
right out of the tunnel.        
 
My conscience in front of the universe    
ahead of the seasons.        
 
Of winter    
let's hold back the squirrel's reservations.        
 
In spring    
let's be the bear coming out of hibernation.        
 
In the summer    
let's breathe the flight of the eagle.        
 
In autumn    
let's bring in our white sheep.        
 
 
 
615
 

Mask themselves permanently    
drum rolls    
without night falling        
 
Cross the valleys    
the sunny sound    
bugles        
 
Times face    
guarantors of oblivion    
cold sweat        
 
from the bottom of the meadow    
monte le chuintement brossIt's   
muzzle of cows         
 
Ragged Gored    
the prude customs officer    
roars with pleasure        
 
moon face    
out of the ruins    
the white form        
 
Cheeky    
without mourning appearing    
a look of soft passion        
 
The mallet    
hit the ram skin    
so that the voices connect        
 
Foam and fountain meet    
noisy nostrils    
water spiders carapate        
 
Bisque risque    
of folk music    
at the bric-a-brac of the authentic        
 
Open your eyes    
femme    
the man closes his        
 
to heaven    
only happy    
the palm stripes the azure        
 
Glide nimbly    
laziness of mind    
against your breast        
 
A breach    
and it sneezed    
the white smoke disappears.        
 
 
 
614