In the time of the sailing ships,
of the big adventures,
it
occurred that:
Always when without route,
the ships,
loosened
itself to the lost winds,
for
that in an any bay,
or
lost island,
in the salty Atlantic seas,
or,
the
Pacific,
some
distant luck found them..
Today.
Today still many winds of luck,
have pushed
many by mistake,
doubtful to the insecure ports.
But also in dreams,
to magical places,
of blue haven and half moon
bays…
Wake up poet!
In this land,
the moon is away from you many
spans of luck.
But on the side of my road,
straight ahead,
on a near intersection,
I’ll turn to the future,
directly to a world of a moon,
that shines upon my port,
or
for the time being,
I let myself be taken,
by
the swing of my sails.