Wet the wind ... (Mojar el viento...)

Wet the wind ...

Wet the wind, wet night
and grooves with silver stars and tinsel
nude music and snowy carnations
overshadow other, the brightness in that fight ...
Flocks and mineral worlds and spills
water in the beds where the sun you love ...
and certain of these networks, which you proclaim
sea ​​green, emerald and sparkling aclames ...

Wind, crosses the veil of stars, discovered
deities of heaven and mischievous charms
stigmas coal and the flock of your kisses
wing where the nightingale is a key to heaven
and the promise of future bat exalted
in the region of green silence and sleep
by Swain wing, and music that urges
errant youth plunges into light that rewards ...

Canopy vogue and cloister and Centella
music and dress and steely vamp
verb lassitude wandering flock
Under your thalamus and beautiful sight ...
Clamor and zeal to sing on your lips
youth of carnations and roses and hermits
art bells and chisels or dumb or damage
that sculpt wise to look into your eyes ...

That desvirtud clarifying the tide
his youth inert pen my tea
clarifies the visceral naked and so is
music and see you naked prison ...
Sure mundane arpeggio not receive my fortress
with that sweet sweet voice and impregnates you
naked under my young brush art
where popping the carnation sosiegos teaches ...

Neatness soft dove Elan
coasts lay wind and sails
which embraces the birds silent crackling
about the dream of flying, immersed inflamed voice ...
Carbuncle and everlasting mark unleashed
longs in the nightingale sword shadow over
weightless light of dawn that weighs
the moon tonight, star that captures ...

Sounding voice, voice outdated winged shadow
gratitude that the dawn is love jasmine.

Las noches húmedas con ese olor a Jazmines invitan a la inspiración y a un rebaño de besos entre claveles, rosas... todo un jardín estrellado.
¡Hermoso y lírico!

Saludos

Muchas gracias, Evangelina!!!!! Un abrazo grande, amiga!!!!!