At the mountain top, I'll wait for you,
Like morning dews in Summer's hue...

In my town - not a city like Rio Verde,
The Circus arrived with January's festival...

I've always wonder - it has always been
a part of me, wondering that is. About...

No one ever felt this close...
I'll always be a shore...

Poetry, no one knows you as much as I do,
you are not beauty born from roots...

I miss you like petals misses the stem.
Without you, I have no roots, no place to bloom...

I saw the crescent moon
like an orphan child in winter...

I
Retrieve the metal...

Oh saintly night,
you, where the moon strolls by...

In the meadows, winds call your name;
listen to them clearly as trees rustle their...

A constant poetical struggle
is to stroll through barren, forsaken stations...

Like leaves in oaks, I'll learn to fall
from branches short or from to tall...