Fluid is the night which I plunge in
Coloured by the sunset, enlightened by the moon
I weave weft of dreams
Erasing them with reality
I wait for Death
That will come from the sea
I grow flowers watering them
With blood and I destroy them
With the look of someone who has seen
And knows too much
They read a world in me
In me they perceive the dream
Roads of sea, houses of clouds
I weave, and my thread is Death