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Below the ponds, beyond the valleys,
On the Mountains, blue clouds, blue seas,
Bright is the sun, brown is the ethers,
Bowed in confines of styled shores,
I am blind, you are lined with ability,

They are like good skimmers,
swooping in the brave treachery,
But fearfully crossed the deepest intensity.
With an unthinkable and generous smile.
Cry away in the mids of their morbid miasmas,

They went and purify themselves in the lower layer,
In the brink, like a pure and divine languor,
In clear fire that rises in limpid slices.
Beyond the troubles and the last painful arrows

That burdens our foggy persistence,
Pleased is he who can with a generous swing
Limp towards the far light and silent fields,
We are the ones who brought the marks,
Towards the high heavens in the burning light,

Freely to bear the moving crowds,
Whoever cowers over life, but easily understands strife, the gestures of lovers offering flowers, the bondage of life and things so dumb, for cries too numb in the chambers so wrong, i rest my bond.

Sincerely @izge.