I Dream. With a bright day, round as the world,
with the seas bowing to the horizon,
with the dragonflies taken to the sea, taken by the wind,
that between tides it takes them to fly over the waters,
and me dreaming of dolphins that jump higher,
than memories, than distant mountains.
I Dream. With seaweed, that fraternally my feet involve,
like someone who embraces someone who is loved, as a calling,
and I Dream of dives in surface waters where
water music and Balearic sounds mix
with shrimp hormones and UV from the sun
in the colors of the corals ... that Dream of the day.
I surf these big Dreams ...
I Dream. With skies of hope, which are reflected in stones,
creations of art, insects, flying low, in Dreams,
and with black spiders hanging from precipices.
I Dream. With the warm air in the sky, soft as a burning life
and I hear footsteps on land, crackling, on grass,
my steps to the river,
where I get on a raft and paddle, paddle ...
I go on and on, among alders, undulating,
and splashes of cold, green water.
And finally, beyond the last corner of the river:
again the sea ... again to embrace somebody,
again we Dream…
Note: In a day of climate strike.