Sweet water.
Orange river water like a thread.
Soup of bright water,
soup of sighs of the lucky spoon
in which wings and mountains are reflected,
strong feathers
spells
winter butterflies
and star lashes of stone eyes.
Rain water
roaring
falls
and evaporates
and disappears at the time of thirst,
when men laden with sparrows stop to drink, laden with sparrows
that conquer Feast Day trees with flares and fireworks.
David Ymbernon
From the poem collection Carbassa emergent (llum de bengala), LaBreu Edicions