The bed, the window near the valley, the sky,
The splendid fast those clouds,
The sudden rain claw at the windows
As if nothing initialed the world.
In my dream of yesterday
grain from other years burned to a simmer,
No heat in the tiled floor.
Descalzos, which parted us like a clear water.
Oh my friend,
do so weak distance separating our bodies!
The blade of the sword of time lurking
there would have instead sought in vain to win!
ever (very occasionally) I dreamed W. was gone. That all this time, until yesterday (but not today, day vague, cloudy, no rain) was expected. The worst happened.
There are times to speak, moments in which one could explain something. The clouds move fast: the month of April, they did not today. I say once sometimes dream that you're not. (And I regret very much) But it said.
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