Everyone was keeping in his left hand
with the sun shining at his head
A little star of mirror
To see his past

The tall muse
Flooded with rays
Was sewing thoughts
at the table

Our right
Hand
Was shoring up sincerely
A pencil

The words were falling
Dancing on the paper
The color of the future

The clouds were washing with tears
The grassy tallowed spots
Unwanted on the lashes