I was not looking at the blind sea. He did not look at what he shelters giving warmth for the evil that takes shelter. You warm me with your hands as if they were a magic box that produces skin effects. You speak to me of ancient oblivions as already forgotten. Four thousand moons of pale earth that shines due to the effect of another passed, she is moved believing herself loved by all the lovers who with their eyes see brilliant effects in the spectacular of the night. Bella Luna changing to see loving her follow those who freely love her. Black moon that is there as if nothing. Play by not being in case they are eaten by oblivion. And oblivion ignores and does not allow itself to be forgotten, nor does it forget the glow of the night. He and everyone look again and look at that double face that is playing hide-and-seek with his double face, with whom he sometimes fools himself by not knowing which face is looking out of the picture in the window.