With the first rays of the morning sun, a dreamy town stretches out.
I and my fellow citizens greet the morning with a silent bow.
Behind the open window shutters, the dreamy town greedily swallows the morning echo.
Along with a roll of newspaper, coffee, and the first cigarette, the city was hidden behind the diminutive.

My fellow citizens pass by on the street.
Vain, happy as a new day.
Helpful, compassionate.
They are in a hurry to share this morning.
The neighbor's children are getting ready for school.
Across the yard comes the smell of a draped table.
The street bends in the ear.
The city is hidden behind the diminutive.