The Patio

It is a terrible heart that they gave me.
I would like to rescue it from those clouds
and it is impossible. Further, the wind
is from the north and its mad thirst torments me.

I left the doors and windows open.
I left it so I would converse with the leaves
and it would put order into so many things
that in this patio approach life.

The wind, that is the master of my days,
passes, and in passing leaves its essences.
I let the leaves fall to the earth
and my heart, confused, awaits them.