| Epiphanic silence at the time of love
|
| Your dreams have already gone to sea
|
| An extract of the perfume of pain
|
| Your wrists face up and towards the sun
|
| Your gifts should arrive
|
| The crazy elephants, the dress, the trousseau
|
| Walking in the mist
|
| that dissipates the heart
|
| The miracles in your body will already be
|
| The violets in your blood will live
|
| On a river in love and in its walk
|
| Your gifts should arrive
|
| Candles, tableware and your happiness
|
| And you don't know whether to stop or rain
|
| And stand on the world at your feet
|
| Your smile that makes us tremble
|
| The world that does not understand in the end trembles
|
| that kiss of life
|
| the subtle melancholy
|
| The moment when you pyre
|
| The spaces where you look
|
| And the drops of your rain will go away
|
| And again in the sequence
|
| of the falling petals
|
| The mysteries of chance are discovered
|
| And the hands that meet on the flower
|
| The bestial nature of love
|
| Your gifts should arrive
|
| If everything ends
|
| everything starts again
|
| the morning that comes
|
| It's an old feeling
|
| That reflects the mirrors of time
|
| And the girl huddled in the corner
|
| She is the girl against the fury of god
|
| Your gifts should arrive
|
| It's not much I have to give you, look
|
| And you don't know whether to stop or rain
|
| And stand on the world at your feet
|
| Your smile that makes us tremble
|
| the world trembles
|
| That he doesn't understand in the end
|
| That kiss of life, the subtle melancholy
|
| The moment when you pyre
|
| The spaces where you look
|
| And the drops of your rain will go away
|
| And your gifts should arrive
|
| And the drops of your rain will go away |