LIKE WHO GIVES A REFRESHMENT
M. García García-Pérez

I stop in the glances,
I escape behind.
They are like flocks of gray doves.
Blue, red, of all colors.
I only look for to refresh these heats.
I stop in the glances.

With the eyes that watch to me
I can escape.
I only look for to fix those alive moments.
Glances clean or pale glances.
I only look for to be glad the morning.

I confess you that I do not hit upon
to find the calm.
I yearn nothing more
and it is what less I have.
The quiet soul goes away
across the window
behind some eyes blue thirsty.
Oh! woe betide the one falls in love until in a desert.
Give me rest
like who gives a refreshment.

Your glance flies. It flies calm. It flies.
In the streets it is an arrow
that it alleviates the time of the poets.
Your glance flies. It flies calm. It flies.
In the streets it is an arrow
that it alleviates the time of the poets.

I stop in the glances.
I escape behind.
I look for in that sea of lost glances.
Blue, green, of all colors.
They are as free as free the men are.
I stop in the glances.

That the dawn finds me
always wide-awake.
That keeps awake to me the hunger of you I have.
The quiet soul goes away
across the window.
It goes away behind the morning star.
Give me rest like who gives a cigarette.