I softly Touch
the softness of the dusk
that gazes deep into my eyes;
I lean my yearnings
against cotton clouds
undone By the Northern Wind.
Located at the South Of the scorn,
only its consequence
comes to me
such a ghostly gust,
in my daily World,
a threatening eclipse.
Strumming strings of wind
I discover your voice
And in it, a thousand clues,
I learn through your Air Caresses
to give in to the ambush
of the Mermaid`s Song.