some leaves and moss
on water and stones at
the side of a river crystal
mirror to the sky early morning
on a walk with your dog
as the wind gently blows
the amor secos.
birds flying away from you
the silence is a memory of a tunnel
until a pebble hits the side of the
metal as the boy looks for the bird
that falls
another bird from a branch above your
head looks in fear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem