The tempest
The inspiration of my versifying gives me back my purity
Shaken in the storms and silences suffered
Caresses every wound that grieves my existence
Now that I recompose my lost steps
If rising again means finding harmony again…
Which muse would give me back poetry?
Of epic and sweetened songs
Of the sad heart; open the windows
Let the verses of Orpheus enchant the stones
And the fires of hell be quenched
What moment is more magical than a boarding
That calms my heart like a mirage
And of an air that calms the cries
Blueness and worlds now re-emerged
Like the truth of my verses
It would seem to have surfaced as in myths
The earth, the path that leads
Far from every grim danger
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