Blue on the horizon
sunset on my back,
rocked by the wind flight
drawing shapes in the clouds.
North Wind
who was banished to the south
I go home clay
ocher and white.
I am a messenger of the stations
came after the rains,
and do not recognize borders
of men from the sky.
Sapphire black and wearing my wings
powerful and short
fragile to the poet's dream,
I expected from your window.
Arid land, endless summer
keep the delicate heart,
from the one I love
rallito sun that feeds hopes
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