Ask the sea how many times I cried,
the saline tears that I hid in its walk,
and how in the dance of every tidal wave
my sighs melt with its immense truth.
Its waves, like hands that lull the dreams,
dance on the sand, keeping a lament,
mirrors of the soul, reflections of the wind,
where your name floats, like a sad attempt.
So take her these words of mine,
each verse a whisper, each rhyme a feeling,
and between the shells and the touch of the breeze,
ask the sea, if there is still a future.
