Sunday, June 20, 2004


a city which seems dark
whose streets hardly animated
by lights
 crossing the fog
a city which seems dark
doesn't want to do its steps ahead

and I am firmly held against the ice
which is covering her body last time hot
telling that in the last virrage behind
a fine tragedy waits us

but the city adores the dryness life
without counting its invaluable moments
and the ages which want to be prosperous

he will enjoy his harvests
how sowed in time

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