After reading this poem you will not have me read,
I would be sorry

We will meet
one day and from the heart of an abandoned

We will be passionate to love

we will meet at home in the countryside of childhood
where God's mind drove us we will not honor
only with eternal humility we will deliver the wounds
willingness and grace money debts plans

- and we won't regret it anymore -

He only suffers from a sickle
that mows naked grass
In the garden of blue cornflowers
where he drove his cow