Deja vu The sands of the past traffic with the memories bundled in pieces of sparkling skin, sketching itself

in the space of unfeelingness. Night devours the lethargy of sleep, opens the eyes in order to confuse them with perfumes of senses. Suddenly in the same sands appears the perfectly strange figure that has always consoled me.

Es posible alcanzar el estremecimiento en un mundo que ha adocenado el arte, encarcelado la insumisin y mancillado la esencia? Is able catch shudder up in a world that have made ridicule the art, put in jail the disobedience and
disgrace the essence?

and made woman The drop of wter That opened the window of springtime Slides along the folds of the dream Enraptured by a figure That reflects in her The drop of water That opened the window of springtime Muted the silence, Challenged the wind, Engendered life And made woman