As the intense scent
fills my nostrils
on this wonderful sunny day
the white wall
sovereign mistress of jasmines
is a show for few people
only the shadow
of the one who flees
like a dove in the wind
strolls among rose gardens
everything impalpable
insects pollinate
the lake far away
in the mist
of that hour
and while everything
seems to collapse
in the inexhaustible vortex
of subliminal thoughts
the time
stops in my mind
in its clear madness
is waiting
the backflow of an image
like the backwash of the lake
in perennial anguish
