I think of horizons that sleep

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I think of horizons that sleep,
and in rough seas of white silver,
unbridled waves of bitter foam,
on a beach of forgotten sands.
A sign in the wind I feel crouching,
fierce gallops its colossal centrifugal force,
that drags black clouds over the earth,
the clear water from the heights falls down.
Oh! if I could be rain, waves, sea and beach,
if only my essence could glide over the trees,
reflect me like a pond clothed with suns,
sparrow flying over green wheat fields.
Traveling seagull over calm seas,
searching for the calm that my soul asks for,
to rest my plants on kindly earth,
of emerald dressed like ivy.
The poplars sway, swaying in the wind
the fireflies light up my lifeless footsteps.
What could it be?
I feel tonight in my chest the silences
a thousand voices are silent about times already dead.
Barefoot I will not make sounds do not wake up
memories sleep on their bed of oblivion,
longings in a dark corner hide,
I take shelter over myself... the hours fade away.