I was sitting on the beach, gray winter
The Job fair to soak in the sand: wet fresh from the army;
caught with his eyes beyond the horizon, but
I drew back for fear of the surf
My bait was lost between the foam
in the back, behind, the Pillars of Hercules
of my knowledge. Lazy
a pale sun influenced
once again went back to check that no one escaped
from the world,
as a beacon of a prison camp
Then the clouds, superb, stunning eyes with puffs
yet inexorable as the beating heart of the beloved underdog
the sea of \u200b\u200bcare, and pulsating warbles
without protest.
Sure, more than me, to never stop loving
.
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