The last wine...

The last wine...

For those old streets where dispersed
Your love and mine, in those paths where
bare love your lips and the moon gave life
the gods of the night, in the streets,
stone and mud, where blood,
fallen martyrs and heroes were roses
in your face and magnolias in your hands,
there a thousand times I kissed you and you loved me,
I like the first iris of your people ...
There were no suns, no stars, because your heart
Huanta shone in the early morning, and I
as a satellite without lights, drank all your skin,
as if it were the last wine of your vineyard.
Much love, many spasms together ...
The pain of history, could only be in a past
forgotten. Together with an immense Christ
like my love, we spend the history,
walk holding hands together
along these paths where the love she gave birth
that smile of yours that is not lost over time.
The multi-colored sunsets in the desert,
streets remind me of your people;
these old streets of mud and rocks, where
birth history made you smile just for me ...
Augus July 12, 2009