My eyes a den of amazement,

my smile the sceptre of hone

I myself a violin suspended

between the quivering soul

and the pulse of strings.

Raise me upon your palms

with all the force of a last wager.

Paint childhood’s fertile pastures

with your purple tenderness.

Fill the moment’s pitchers

with eternally flowing wine.

Give my lips a mythical cut,

invent for my face

a horizon white as virtue.

Carry me in your breast

like a delicious secret,

and take refuge in its shadow

whenever you lack tenderness.

Let me vanish and hide

between your bones,

like Spring ascending your veins.

Take me each dawn

to your serenity.

Savour the rain of my memory,

let its warmth bestow comfort

on the cold soul.

Bear me to the summit of your hopes,

use the rays of my eyelids

to conquer the emperors of severity,

with the clearness of my heart

purge this universe lacerated by mist,

Wait for me there,

in the evenings of other times,

where new lives are bejewelled,

wait for me there,

on the edge of the absolute,

hold me there in my entirety,

sing and dance with me,

celebrating an encounter,

encompassed by the eternal,

by the union of freedom and certainty.