the freshest water came out of nowhere
the sun hid, bread came down from the sky
and quiet returned among the people.
Another mystery is added to my whys? .
Today the dream is dug on the hot sand
and the sweat river quenches the thirst of new roots,
the mirage flees and a Paradise is already revealed,
the orange blossom smells like this ¬ the desert.
Eyes that stare into the void regret
distant children dispersed in the cities.
In my land the old olive trees are praying
they clutch necklaces of black pearls in their hands;
/>the golden fruit that the sun gives like dew
sows anger, sacrificed in the ditches.

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