The illusion of an angel
Taking care of my teps, is born.
The belief that you will be there
Taking care of me, is born.
Let me believe these sunny days
Are your smile and the sparkle in your look.
Let me dream that this warm weather
In the midst of winter
Is the intangibility of your hug
That you are commanding the weather
So to keep away
A grey, cold and cloudy day
From flaking its sadness
And blowing myself to smithereens.
Well of desires
When the problems, the pessimism, the unwillingness,
or the bad humor try to suffocate me
I just need to stick out of the window of my soul.
There is in my interior a marvelous garden
where the most prized remembrances
multicolored aromatic affections
landscapes of my learning by the life, inhabit.
The laughters fill of music the air
with thousand amusing tonalitys
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