On the warm day,
of the light,
goes the snake,
through the salt...
No one rushes her, to leave...
the snake travels,
unceasingly...
And on the new day,
lips without time...
clouds come...
bringing messages,
and doors, doors, doors...
Day of the lilacs,
you are going to talk,
the snake travels,
through the salt...
no one rushes her, to leave,
the snake travels,
through the salt...
And on the new day,
of sunset*...
clouds will come...
bringing messages...
In the clear water, of the sun,
everyone laments,
for the good...
some in the body,
will see,
that the snake travels,
through the salt...
And the sunset* travels
travels like time
and the clouds will come...
bringing messages.