Come the way you like, br I have abhorrence from dreams br and wings that you do not have br but come on wings. br br Carry some goblets filled with ash of bones, br some scratched earth from the hollow balls of skulls br someone who had eaten up both the eyes; br on the cold footnotes of graves br touch the toes for some tinkling sensation. br br My kisses on your face has the burdens br of some funerals and these tears br from your eyes speak so much br to mourn about. br br The dark green bottle that carries the genie br walks in slow spirits to boost br its cask has invented from the death of sugar br some juices from the autumnal fruits. br br The water without taps and without confines, br my hands on my sides grow br letting go the walls br to breathe br to breathe br br In the crisp white sheets on the bed br O angel of death! br behind the thicket of curtains br the sun did not bring hope br br I said come flying br without wings.