All the branches are old br In this garden of trees br Nowhere futures to hold br In uncertainty of guaranty br Grass grows always dark br In the wonderment of diffuse br Creditability is its spark br Filling tongues with its clues br br Pure as moments of gleam br Every worth conquered br Nothing is what it seem br Between lines be awarded br Fancy hold passing outside br Architecture of open space br Silences in their ride br With their many knotting lace br br The hour is becoming old br With earth in music reflection br Shadows that a day can't hold br Every occurrence selection br Voices low to answered wind br Where it comes - where it goes br Disciplined and thick-skinned br To and fro to the ears flows br br Dedicated to Octavio Pazbr br Peter S.