He who walks Will find that The stinging summer sun Leads the loved ones Over clear waters.
Beneath elegant Palm trees That when time to Take a break It creates a shade Like no other.
The perfect place to sit, Only when the flourishing Mountains casts a shadow On the other side of The extensive range.
Even so, it’s such a Beautiful place to sit.
More when the made Of fat and skinny and Happy and sad and Continuous life Is there to observe The sunset that Changes the sapphire Blues to flaming oranges
Ready to be taught by The twilights of the Most unfortunate and The seducers.
A dark tunnel Where the Young Women jog And the cows And the pigs Have tasted blood And the morning sun Is taking a little Longer to come up.
Tunnel that can only Be traverse with Experience and Burning cinnamon.
And oh, evil one. The night will cast an Eternal veil.
And what an enormous, And eternal night this is.
What a lonely night.
And evil one, Between the burning sea And the pale morning, You’ll find the quiet Of husks and dead fish, Trembling foam of Retreating waters, And messages in bottles Never read before.
And silence will come Wrapped in a blanket, Galloping on beach ***** And flying machines that Leave faster than they go.
It’ll cure the absence of warmth While the days, the months, The time passes by.
The morning will come, Brandishing celestial blood, Turning the sea ablaze.