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On the banks of the old riverbed,
solemn houses of stone and brick
hang the feeling of trinitarias,
cobbled lanes wet mysteries,
the streets pay tribute to the sun,
the sides of the cathedral show scars,
passions come alive,
the rainbow mimics the colourful
instant of the stones,
lighting up motifs on the walls,
confidants, they let stories flow,
the pleasure garners questions,
the complicity between current and breeze
carries confidences, in the city of trees
of the trees the poem speaks
of experiences, few hear the truth.