When you least expect that
veiled by the fog
castles with sharp battlements
surprise you
like a friendly music
that flutters nearby
forests with ruby red berries
smoking chimneys
in the countryside covered by the snow
while in the cold hands
the smell of earth
brings us back to human reality
and we keep existing
at palace Arzaga
in its winter landscapes
where the memory runs
without the need to mend its ways
footsteps coming
footsteps going
the white snow
all hides all keeps
