Man dies when the death comes to him ...
Some people change the flow of the river ... lightly ... as if they were playing with a trowel and a basket in the sand ...
It's unmistakable to measure the distance between the two stars moving at the flashing speed ...
Replaced blood in the body as if pouring from a barrel a new bottle of wine in the bottle ...
They cut their breasts like a wedding cake and absorb
a new heart into them ... noisy ... folded fists, I start motionless, cure incurably ...
Replaces a ton of darkness for the light beams in the noisy look ...
The flames of the match wood flame, the tear in the eye and the hideous parachutes in the head
of the butterfly ... so again ... no one has ever managed to regain time ... Time ... these are big shipyards ...
which just stagger behind the fortress ... and they climb somewhere in the open sea to
which only memory can reach with its trained sailboat ...
And this site is the wind ... the wind that fills the sails of our memories and helps us
quickly and easily reach the time that has passed ... and never forget the people we loved ...