Me, with a deep pigeon look on my face
―of tunnel and sentimental car,
with the sighs of an acrobat.
My blind father's ahands
were more admirable than night.
I love the night hat of day,
the day after night.
My mother spoke like the aurora
and zeppelins that are going to fall.
She wore flag-coloured hair
and eyes full of distant astonishment
One afternoon, I picked up my parachute
and said, Bbetween the moon and two sandpipers.
Eternal rest approached like the earth falls on the globe.
My mother embroidered tears on the first rainbows.
Now my parachute falls from dream to dream
through the spaces of death.
I found an unknown bird
that said to me: If I were a dromedary
I would not be thirsty. What time is it?
He drank the drops of dew from my hair,
threw me three and a half stares,
and walked away a, Goodbye.