The screens of Fatima
Fog and landscape. Vacant hemisphere
Which marks a lyrical planisphere;
Night of nights and the Zafirs
On the route of the fakirs;
Blue moon in the offing
With the turquoises of his romance;
Sky that feathers as it sees fit
With the chimera of delayed flights:
In the desert of crazy glories
Where the trajectories narrow.
The mists in the mirages
Its tasteless guipur lace.
Indecisive light of an asteroid
On the black ellipsoid spot
And there is a Dead Sea behind the mist,
Like a drop of Chinese ink.