Envolto na grosa negrura nocturna
                                                            da rúa deserta
                                                            e sen embargo
                                                            como se todo me escrutase curuxento
                                                            Nin pechando os ollos
                                                            ser quen de atopar un agocho trala nada
                                                            Como se tamén a soidade
                                                            máis miña
                                                            estivese ocupada
                                                            en espreitarme

                                                            Logo de que un acepta
                                                            a sordidez do silencio como cilicio
                                                            un frío de abisal azul invade a alma
                                                            e como un incansable atleta
                                                            o tempo alanca polas datas
                                                            deixándonos unicamente na lembranza
                                                            días de barro
                                                            e cantos de paxaros rotos
                                                            E perdida xa a consciencia
                                                            de cando foi cedo
                                                            nesta absurda travesía
                                                            non somos quen de comprender
                                                            por que no espello
                                                            o propio reflexo
                                                            nos resulta cada vez
                                                            máis lonxano e máis alleo

                                                            Sentados á roda
                                                            na herba dunha tarde azul
                                                            mirando con aglaio
                                                            os ronseis das viaxes
                                                            Con tódalas preguntas imposibles
                                                            aínda por facer
                                                            e o arquivo dos soños
                                                            por estrear
                                                            Tamén el dende o seu tallo
                                                            tan lonxe no mesmo hoxe
                                                            mantiña o ollar atento

                                                            Coma se no seu ceo tremente
                                                            albiscase escorzos de sombras e ausencias
                                                            invisibles dende a nosa primavera
                                                            tan nova

                                                            El dixéralle vaste acordar
                                                            e logo ela case non acorda
                                                            naquel leito de vermello seu
                                                            Confusa aínda
                                                            chegada a hora
                                                            non entende
                                                            que themis mude en pilatos
                                                            con obxecto de deixar a súa vida
                                                            outravolta
                                                            nas mans
                                                            do seu irrenunciable
                                                            destino