“Stories to tell you on the shore of evening, sad and gentle , so that you will not be sad. A swan , a tree, something far away. The season of grapes , the ripe and fruitful season.
I who lived in a harbor from which i loved you.
The solitude pierced by dream and silence,
Penned up between the sea and sadness, Soundless, delirious, between two motionless gondoliers.
My sad tenderness, what comes over you all at once?
When i have reached the most awesome and the coldest summit,
my heart closes like nocturnal flower”…Pablo N