My musical theme that I connect to, between lines, with this creation is:Bella luna - Jason Mraz

"The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm is terrible, but they have never thought that these dangers were enough reason to stay in the port."

Ancestral melodies

                                 The deep sea touch ancestral melodies.
                                          The fish are hidden sweetly in the depths,
                                  and the fisherman,salty hand of plow,
                   take them out of the water flying
        like little comets in the dark.

                                                                     They merge with the clouds
                                                                              and with the echo, slowly,
                                                                                               shooting the passions
                                                                                                        of sleepy nereids.

                                                          There, where they get numb,
                                                     and continues resting hearts
                                                rocking with luck,
                                           to achieve the catch of the day.

              The look of the innocents,
                        in the burnished mirrors,
                              are full of tears of joy,
                                  who weave Penelope's braid into
                                            the docile moon, upon sea.

                                                          The short wind trip,
                                                     snakes on the strings of the harps.
                                                They bring light to the house.
                                           there, where hope beats.

                      They walk together in the hostile tin,
                           where the fables awaken
                                and wet the full moon,
                                     between the threatening night rocks,
                                          that would be honey of pink indigo,
                                               if it was not because the job waits the other day.

"Los pescadores saben que el mar es peligroso y la tormenta es terrible, pero jamás han pensado que esos peligros eran suficiente razón para quedarse en el puerto."

Melodías ancestrales

Original poem by @zeleiracordero

Reading notes: III