Let me drink the water of your gaze,
that rainbow that decomposes the sun in your pupil,
that curls your eyelashes,
calm sea of my hands,
the clouds that travel.
Let them load their udders,
cellars of grace,
storm that bursts your laughter,
open mouth that gathers your gaze,
that which bathes me,
that which gives drink to the thirsty one who calls you.
May the curtain of your eyes see the orchard
of the dry land,
stubble of the earth,
the dent of the hot desert,
the only flower of the year
that opens up with the river that flows through the calendar.
And it rains on the green palms of the oasis,
dream of dates and well of fresh water,
mirage of life,
a manuscript that your gaze in love turns to.
