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por At the touch of your pen
At the touch of your pen, a wild dawn
commanded the words of my dream
between leisure and answers, to be loved
rooted my waves, as an owner.
From your own eyes the nights were
regions of the beating of my kisses
and between new glow, my returns
drowsed in your dune forests cuttlefish ...
As night was to hear my sound from your lips
which school of balsam and your kisses,
in the league to hold my raptures
cradled the flag of my changes.
And it was slow the heartbeat between raspberries
eternal in the region of my roots
stay healthy in many or which fall
on the border of your wings and my kisses.
Chimera was not the virtue of your emerald
which copies drawn on the beautiful dawn
and distinguished the word that scalds
chaldean headband seized sober future.
On the decline of my dream, I did conceal the sunset
that the flag of my jungle dressed in your return
on the embers of the mist of your kiss
improper and a multitude of my lap.
March moon that multiplied my eloquence
into the night, fell without the stars
that warmed my back between wings beautiful,
your night length, deity and science.
Grabbed the kind face of my joy
to your face, soaked a thousand cherubs
syllable of the sun light you upload
the cliff of your mouth, my red seekers.
And if having my voice in your kisses no way
to circumvent the shortcut of my shadow
between your feet my racket is spring night
and to your kingdom your star always shines ...
But he saw the source of fresh silver
smooth dawn you dream of the eyelids
ties between the green eucalyptus tumble me
and your shadow purple with scarlet lips.
Clear outpouring for my night cherry
you slip on my night with your kiss.
At the touch of your pen, a wild dawn
commanded the words of my dream
between leisure and answers, to be loved
rooted my waves, as an owner.
From your own eyes the nights were
regions of the beating of my kisses
and between new glow, my returns
drowsed in your dune forests cuttlefish ...
As night was to hear my sound from your lips
which school of balsam and your kisses,
in the league to hold my raptures
cradled the flag of my changes.
And it was slow the heartbeat between raspberries
eternal in the region of my roots
stay healthy in many or which fall
on the border of your wings and my kisses.
Chimera was not the virtue of your emerald
which copies drawn on the beautiful dawn
and distinguished the word that scalds
chaldean headband seized sober future.
On the decline of my dream, I did conceal the sunset
that the flag of my jungle dressed in your return
on the embers of the mist of your kiss
improper and a multitude of my lap.
March moon that multiplied my eloquence
into the night, fell without the stars
that warmed my back between wings beautiful,
your night length, deity and science.
Grabbed the kind face of my joy
to your face, soaked a thousand cherubs
syllable of the sun light you upload
the cliff of your mouth, my red seekers.
And if having my voice in your kisses no way
to circumvent the shortcut of my shadow
between your feet my racket is spring night
and to your kingdom your star always shines ...
But he saw the source of fresh silver
smooth dawn you dream of the eyelids
ties between the green eucalyptus tumble me
and your shadow purple with scarlet lips.
Clear outpouring for my night cherry
you slip on my night with your kiss.
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