Translation:Lines

Every ribbon of fire that, in search of Love, I throw and vibrates in tragic roses brings to light the burial of a yesterday. I don’t know if the drum roll in which I search for it will be the gasp of a stone, or the perennial birth of a heart.

Hanging towards the depth of beings, there is an ultranervous axis, plumbed deep. The thread of destiny! Love will divert such a law of life, towards Man’s voice; and will give us supreme liberty in blue, virtuous transubstantiation against what is blind and fatal.

May there beat in every number, reclusive in fragile dawns, the heart of an even better Jesus of another great Yolk!

And after... The other line... A Baptist who lies in wait, lies in wait, lies in wait... And riding on an intangible bend, a foot bathed in purple.