Can you hear the church that in the distance, the evening disturbs?

The clovers sleep, the fir trees riddle the frivolous waters

The stagnant water of ideas, and the cinnabar blue lakes?

The fruits immolate the earth, their blood cracks the trees

A candle of red wax shivers under a plum tree

This tinted snow, we had seen it burn

Your bridal neck reaped the promises

And we embraced in uniform dances

Today the snow has fled the sidewalks of Malta

God syringes the streets with a cord of cobalt

And then folds his web, with a singing silence:

The snow lets its cold hands water the passers-by

Out of a red geyser, my star has burned

I drank a black night, my eyes had closed;

The volcano of my soul burned ten demons

The truth drunk the ocean of coal