When I was out dying beneath the stars
Like unwelcomed season
Onto the meadows, shores and hills
Laying over the fragrance of sadness
Greeting my other forms
That shake over my hidden tide
That surpasses and decides
My sacred ecstasy for gloom
There I offered my body to the moon
To instruct me of my senses
And the hours my eyes waste
Staring wisely on mirage
Where a part of God is
Smelling the orchestra of
The purest tune of sins.
