My feet keep the cycle of eras
the totality of the skies, the ages
and an army
of spirals, of gargoyles,
and infinite blue conches.

My plants
hear the music of the stars,
the dusk of the cycle that is extinguished
and the circle of the future that does not arrive.

My feet are colossal:
they keep all the beings,
keep also your eyes and your amazement
and this precise instant
in which a petal sleeps
and a passing rain falls.

Gocho Bersolari