I could say silver sky or blue moon,
but that is not my voice
and if I draw a star
it is only to drive away my shadow.
Fortune teller of the night, decipher these waters:
I am the lonely sea approaching your lonely shores.
And today I would like to transform my voice
into a sea of light for the thirst of your night;
let my footsteps have
the resonance of dawn when I look for your footprint
and not the surrender of the sun’s suicide at day’s end.
Let my words be a rustle of wings,
and at the moment of writing the word love
let a flock of birds appear
to silence the noise of the bones of the air.
And if it is because of my waters’ dance
in the night of your body,
let desire give us back
the sweet and painful memory of paradise lost.