**Look at the river made of time and water
and remember that time is another river,
know we get lost like the river
and that the faces pass like water.
Feeling that vigil is another dream
who dreams not to dream and that death
who fears our flesh is that death
of each night, which is called sleep.
See a symbol on the day or in the year
from the days of man and his years,
turn the outrage of the years
in a music, a rumor and a symbol,
see in death the dream, in the twilight
a sad gold, such is poetry
who is immortal and poor. The poetry
it returns like the aurora and the sunset.