Piece 3
The time of love
I know is sense, voyage,
fight and harmony.
The woman's love...
From the soul resting
after the calm magic
softly touched by the verb (amar)...
I remember the carnival ribbon
opening itself and enchanting the air,
vibrating, twisting on its destiny, resting on the floor.
Thus
I grab this woman,
mirror of passion,
and hold her strongly,
squeezing her body into my heart.
At this time, at this hour,
I do not remember who am I.
My fury is my peace...
(by Roger Sartorato)
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