WOMEN OF LOVE - Poetry

In a place under the mountains
I met my princess
the town was very small
in its square there was verbena
and in the midst of laughter
I conquered the silhouette
white like a dove
with his doll eyes
I told her: "you are beautiful"
while we go down the slope
and when passing the ten streetlights
the full moon was lit.

Silent lavender in bloom
pointing to the stars
the air braided wallflowers
of its shine in the mane
and by stopping by the road
the sierra was intimate
the deer roared in the distance
and awoke the passion nearby.
I whispered in his ear
a thousand volcanoes, a thousand bonfires
What red lips! What a soft skin!
on the leafy grass.

Above the glasses
the slow moon passed
bathing it with its tin
and when unbuttoning blindly
the buttons on her blouse
slowly, as if groping
by the pupils of the night
galloped the white silk
of some magnolias that the wind
unfurled in the secret skin
of two breasts that looked
like two fresh apples.

Oh what a steep mercury!
of the fine river on the hillside
it had broken in its channel
our spring moon
and the murmur of its waters
Like jealous castanets
stole the voices to the wind
of the village party
while a lattice
of bushes and mint
hid a bed where
love gave free rein.

A final and deaf moan
he lays us in the brush
and the dew evaporates
to the heat of a couple.

The eyes are closed
the night loses its garments
and that passenger blue
Go back to wearing the shames
eight bells are sweetened
and the almonds are bitter
eight flakes of frost
sailing in the cherries
about clothes the pinazo
Tell a secret story
no sound in the words
under two thirsty mouths.

How the bell tower growls!
from the church tower
What sunflowers! What prunas!
It has the prism of the garden
two hearts are muted
He sings the mountain
and a horizon of roosters
far from the mountain cackles.