The Blue Horizon Poem

    The blue horizon is lighted,
    like the flames of a flower;
    in spring, the flames of the fragrance rise,
    the sky is perplexed in the binding of the sun rays,
    to the earth, she asks for herself and
    rises like a flower in the mustard field.
    my pain spread out to the blue horizon,
    digging up lost desires,
    she asks for herself in this spring,
    rises like a wave in the mustard field.