And the sky bright blue...
And the sky bright blue,
white clouds paint the empty spaces
where the thick wall, delimited
the transition overhead of the fig trees.
Palms begging the white Colour
And all, too quiet,
the breeze savours the summer heat.
I spent sleepless nights,
refreshes skin sweat heavily
wetting between the sheets
that were complaining.
And every morning, at sunrise,
spectacular as a Carriage, the horizon is approaching
carrying the heat pain.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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