Born in all the places where I lay my eyes
With the head raised
And with the hair at the wind (...)
You are the noise of the sea in summer
You are the noise of a crowded street in summer

My glory is in your eyes
Dressed of the luxury of your eyes and of its inner shine 
I am sitting in the most sensitive corner of your glance
Under the static silence of immobile eyelashes...

Were you to be blind that God gave you those hands?
I ask you again

I have my own atmosphere in your breath
I have that voice of yours for all defence
That voice that came out of you in heartbeats
That voice in which eternity falls
And breaks into pieces of phosphorescent spheres...

If you died
The stars although their flaming lamp
Would lose their way
What will be of the Universe?