A golden cave was afraid
Of a blue thrust.
Hands were not able to console the mirror.
Let us step back for a last laugh.
You were talking to yourself
when the canary was set free
from the house arrest.
Ah, the paradise,
after all,
was a myth.
You had to beg
for a violin for democracy
and stoop to pick up
a horsehair bow
for playing the anthem.
You had cut your fingers
in a fake war with the moon.
It was a miracle knocking out the stars.
A self-made wound
will never need the sutures.
