Cups that are filled
That fill and overflow in a single throb
Cups that are filled
That they fill up and break
In the same transit
Cups that are filled
That they are filled and enjoyed without stopping
As if the return did not have an end
Cups that break and are no longer
Not even their shadows are reflected in the weeping
From the drops of a glass wine
Cups that are filled
And they are offered in a single taste
For the life that overflows at every moment and without fear of remembering
Cups that are filled and filled
And they do not stop ringing
For the life that is offered and that is more than enjoying
