Es Rubia, El Cabello Suelto

She's blonde, hair loose
shines more light to the Moorish eye
I've been wrapped since then
in a whirlwind of gold.

The summer bee that buzzes
more agile around the new flower
doesn't say as before, tomb
Eve, says everything is Eve.

Under the dark, to the feared
downpour of the waterfall
and the rainbow shines
over the silver leaves.

I frown at the wild
pomp of the irritated mountain
and in the celestial blue soul
a pink hyacinth blooms.

I walk through the forest
to the nearby lagoon
and among the branches I see her
and she walks on the water
the garden snake
hisses, spits, and slips
through its hole
the bugle extends its wing trilling.

I am a harp, I am a psaltery
where the universe vibrates
I come from the sun and go to the sun
I am love,
I am the verse.