and then, the Sea...

Let me tell about the dangerous things of the sea.

Tell you about the burning love and the islands that only exist in the verb to love.

Burning love. Burning love. And sea.

Tell you about the mysterious wonders of the verb navigate.

Love: the dangerous things.

Telling you that love was once a sweet thing. And sea.

Tell you how it hurts to disembark on the mysterious islands.

Tell you about the burning sea and the word to love.

And the dangerous things.

The world is big and fits in this window over the sea.

The sea is big and fits on the bed and mattress to love.

Love is great and fits in the brief space of kissing.

If death predominates in the bravery of bronze, stone, earth and immense sea,

Can beauty survive,

Having the flower forces you to devastate?

How can the scent of summer stop the strong siege of these days,

If steel doors and hard rocks cannot defeat tyranny over Time?

Where to hide - atrocious meditation - the gold that Time wants in its ark?

What hand can stop your swift foot, or what beauty does Time not mark?

None!

Unless this love of mine in black ink keeps its shine.

I am between flower and cloud, star and sea.

Why should we be only human, limited to crying?

I don't find easy paths to walk. My different face

it disorients the firm stones that do not know of water or air.

I put my dream on a ship and the ship on the sea;

- then I opened the sea with my hands, so that my dream could sink.

My hands are still wet from the blue of the half-open waves,

and the color that drips from my fingers colors the deserted sands.

The wind comes from far away, the night bends with cold;

Under the water my dream dies, inside a ship...

I will cry as much as necessary, to make the sea grow,

and my ship sinks and my dream disappears.

Afterwards, everything will be perfect; smooth beach, orderly waters,

my eyes dry as stones and my two hands are broken.

Sea of high waves, carries this immense love that lives in my thoughts and torments my days. Drown this feeling called longing. If we cannot be, may it be carried by your waters beyond infinity.

You can only hear the silence spill

Listening to the voice of the sea in the shells.

And today he decided to draw his footprints in the sand. Like someone who traces a story, not a path. He bathed in the sun, and immersed himself in the plurality of the sea.

As soon as the sun sets over the horizon, the door of day closes. On the other side of the sunset, the doors of night open, overlooking a starry sky full of poetry.

Marks I wrote words of love in the beach sand

and the sea took them.

I wrote my feelings in the dust of time

and the wind kept it.

An era was marked in the hourglass of the senses.

Sea, time and wind came together, united.

They laid bare my soul, showed my feelings, bathed me in pure waters.

I was left naked before time and whom the wind dried.

The age covered me with the finest veils, the wind combed my hair, while it sang in my ear

That love melody written in time.

Words that the sea took, time kept and the wind sang.

They prepared me for you…

They made me a lady for a while written in the wind that life marked.

The sea bathes and caresses our minds and bodies with its rhythmic waves, while the aerial ocean that roams the sky lifts our spirits beyond this world.

This way; both link the smallest of living forms with the vastness of formless Life. And by doing so, they complete the circle of Creation that, in harmony, frees us.

And that heart that shines, creating a star from every particle of Life; and it is nothing more than that same light of Life that we look for in every sip of water and every breath of air.

As his song of words faded into silence, he turned his face to the stars and let his breath merge, once again, with the air that now moved gently around us singing a song of love.