The children of tomorrow
inside the Moon
in the pathways of a glade
cry
hordes of dead men
  reopening the windows
from where escapes
  love,
the strongest fight.

And then at least
  I see coming into being
negroes,  fleur-de-lis
 a yellow clove.
Flowers and symbols
  that appear in my mind
  totems
    aztecs  .