You have learnt from the trees, from the rain you have learnt,
from bees, from the sand of the seas.
You made the dew for the lonely flower grown over a hill,
you made the sun for a golden fish.
You peep inside your eyes bunches of flowers
and butterflies,
there is a chirping of birds in your fingers
there are stars in your mouth.
You are the woman to be found among the broken cristals, buried into a glass.
You are Maria, the trembling shadow,
the vase of porcelain, the cristal bind of mirrors broken in vain,
the dry river, the river without end.
You have learnt from christmas trees, from absent trees, from tristes trees.
You, absent-minded Maria.
Let the chilly wind play on your leaves.
The grass of your body sprinkled with ice
will tell of snowy winter beneath a golden sun.
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