The Door


“La mañana despierta entre humedecidas piedras. Gotas de rocío caen sobre pieles secas.

El aire alberga el secreto de los tiempos, susurra al oído de un pasajero dormido.

Recorre las calles del fácil olvido y encuentra la puerta que nunca se cierra.

The morning wake up between wet stones. Dewdrops fall on dry skin.

The air holds the secret of the ages, whispers to the ear of a sleeping passenger.

Walk the streets of easy oblivion and find the door that never closes”.


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