The hatched drop
One hoists without drowning
the feet and members of clay In a well counted
stopover
One lights in the dictation Cova
Bus and trains of the sky,
Lire goodwill and to write to radiate Valinhos
works the sad currency with the naked eye
Similar to the oil drop under the oak
Thousand spaces the garden and the shelter the street towards
the bald person who smiles
Which promises and denies not to have dictated is there,
both are sorry Volée,
the drop between the two mounts empties
already hatched wave does not give life to the faded sheet
the autumn papers the ground of the silence
Of the cemeteries of tree fear the anguish
Surement the step with the sounds of the dead sheets
It will die only after consents,
it told him the drop carries on his way towards the oak
the year
nourishes the following one,
the Heart broken the step types on the ground to awake
it the hands with the skies counted well
Continuous to copy its silence
Already made to keep silent itself on the true word
the original one of Lucia from missing from Roma
will say yes, will say I were enrol?
Hold nourishes its passage
Mine stumbles on the
Sealed work the wave to point out it