Source
For a garden, there is an ocean of clouds above.
And for a woman there was a rose whose had pricked her,
and from her veins came blood.
She was placed under a peach tree
and with the flowers she wiped her fingers.
she suddenly ran out with the petals still in her hands.
_
I decided to follow her.
The path to the garden was lovely and wild.
Before me was a trail of petals
that took me to where an oak was imposing majestic.
I could not see anyone there.
The immense leafiness of the oak had silenced any sound,
as if even the angels silenced their celestial concerts to look at him.
_
Trapped by the oak and its perennial majesty,
it was when managed to see her,
but I discovered that she was a ghost,
and that its color was the same as that of the petals
that had dried her blood.
_
She was there on the root of the tree
as if it were a flower planted there withering.
Wanted to get closer when suddenly vanished before my eyes,
and it was there when from the stems,
a shy peach crawled.
I devour the fruit, first removing the skin.
The flesh was sweet
there were no seeds inside but flowers covered in blood.
