The loving roads
Led to the town through our hearts
The vegetable markets
- Void of celestial fruit -
Were drinking the cottages of fog.
Expecting the mosses of song
At the sunny paved road,
We were repeating the spring.
The loving roads
From our hearts up to the volcanoes of the leave,
To corridors bedecked with flowers, bushes and herbs,
To lengthy wars ready for peace,
Were asking the name of the night's latest offspring and blossoms.
In restaurants of silence
We had penetrated the age of intercession of odes,
Were melancholy people,
We had no opportunity to accept
The invitation of the wandering green oaks.
The loving roads
Were returning
To the autumn of mornings of life
- Foggy and old -
And our childhood innocence
was embroidered
On their garments.