“L’Ariel tercets (The bard and the sunset)
Odd as could’ve been was the way we had met
as were some strange detours it happened us to get.
But today you, L’Ariel, is not a name I can forget.
Nor are those curls, that reddish with no match;
the way they felt to me is unique, as you can bet.
And the shine, the impression, brings my mind a west sunset.
This accolade goes on as the light fades out in town,
leaving lonely darkness where I stand to take my vow
and to wonder about those waves still glowing in her somehow.
Though they’re never really close, they are farther away for now
to the land where the earth paints as red as their own.
And the same we have to look at is the smell of grass and cow.
The scent for itself can’t be enough to save the night
or to numb from missing hair and the eyes and skin that bright
Blue and white, as drawn in sky, whom I long to take its flight
when the grayness o’foggy issue dissipates to set all right,
while I wander in shadowed bushes within a green I cannot fight
’Cause the day may soon be dawned, and will do with same red light.”
André apud Blog do André