Because the longest winter,
Is not the one whispering shivers
In valleys and the mountain passed.
With it's fine-white viel,
Bathing the trees and countryside.
The longest winter here in my life,
Is that the one that has settled in your beautiful eyes,
Staining your lips with a gray words
Stealing your angelic voice of sweetest chants.
You seem to have forgotten about that
I am a the only one flower in your heart.
And though i don't demand nothing of you,
Wish my heart is like this—withered—
I think I must ask that,
When will you give me back the sun?
–Clairel Estevez
