Summer

 

Like shipwrecked lovers we traveled

all a day long, in search of the sea,

the lands of the south.

And like the misterious way to the enchanted city,

the more we approached

the further away it was.

Then you asked me

from this picture of yours with the white dress,

whitewashed like a little Andalusian house:

Where will we be the next year?

 

Glaucous and salted nacre’s waves

climbed the branches of the cork oaks

and in every seagull beated a disconsolated heart.

At the beach we discovered the earth

washing its feet

and the sea was a firmament of conflicting passions

where sparkled, astral,

the silvered sardines

and the tiny sea snails

and the starfishes that, didn’t you know?,

are the shooting stars fallen to the water.

 

Then we were counting one by one our waves

that came to us like a dog to its master,

never closer than that of our proud heart

allowed,

until an oceanic feeling

invaded our existence

and like kissing we got into the water.

 

Galactic tremolo of the oceanic harmony,

white beard of the great Neptune,

a thousand of milky ways that, night after night,

collect the waters in its jet mirror

to deliver it, submissive, to our pilgrims feet!

 

Oh, wave breaker

where the sea whispers to the earth’s ears

the secrets of immensity!

 

Oh, moment perfect like a contact,

the time’s most beautiful face,

the joyful summer of a youth’s year in our lives!

 

 

 

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