The whole of the night, has blossomed,
the dark is decked out in sparkles,
while the it sings, your welcome.
The clear consciences,
in monochrome patience,
and pure redemption.
There is peace, between the fog and the cold,
there's kindness in the dark calm,
what allows happiness and sanity.
Everything there is sobriety,
between vivid images,
and inviting metaphors,
the seconds are danced,
with the harmony of a kiss.
Everything there is fullness,
from the ears of the wind.
The whole of the night, never judges,
not the heights of your fly,
nor the celebrations,
nor the madness that stands out between the shades.
There are dreams fulfilled,
between tears and glimpses,
they finally scream from the zenith.
And there are also black laurels,
those adorned with petals of time,
those of argentum and nacar ...
all conceived ...
And the whole of the night,
ate the stars and cleaned the moon,
baptized any recollection with its blade.
The universe is breathless,
when the prisms are absent,
and they don't reflect our fears.
And finally the night,
haughtily decked out,
that makes all successes eternal.