The rain is falling
and the birds of my heart
smile at the chill
of its droplets
no one was there
in the hermitage of contemplation
and a wolf howling I heard it
near a cave
and the nightingales of my heart
smile at the blossoms
of narcissus
violet
and daisy
and at the orchids
of luminous memory.
The rain is falling
and the gazelles
upon the slopes
valleys and mountain peaks
await the splendor
of the morning rainbow
the blue twilight
and the flashes of lightning
agate-to sweep away
from their sorrowful eyes
the hardness of pain
the sand and the wind
the dust and the soil
The gazelles of the mountains
Eagerly await the rainbow
With their weary eyes.
