The source of the eternal beauty of the love

And of the source it drained the beauty of the eternal love. And the jasmines-of-poets surrounded her but they never agitated her. In the air he did feel - or was it heard? - the jasmine perfume that insisted, confused, the collective memory of our senses of the love. And a butterfly-blue of undecided flight, some times it arose, other times it went down, seeming that it will land, but no, he only wanted to fly. And for some time the solar rays perforated the green rifts and they projected, they revealed the magic of their luminous focuses. And the monotonous whisper of the water that was slippery, no… if it moved, it attracted us the profundities of the neurons. It was the Universe of the beauty of the royalty of the profundity of the love. Per times in the scenery seemed be heard children's voices, what did with that our spirit if it misled, because we wanted to return to the reality but we didn't get. A couple of hummingbirds approaches to quaver as that to announce, suddenly we are to arrive. A small catfish slid in a deeper point and it analyzed, it tried the culinary offers that were within her reach.

And the sky darkened, the nature ennobled, and the day of so darkness as that it perished. Some fallen drops of water in our faces forced us to remember, for the high of the sky to look. To wake up, that after all over us something exists, and that we only remembered that when the rain kisses our bodies. And the jasmine-of-poets camp being whipped by the windy vacancies that worsened stubborn, they were anxious dark. The poor trunks supported the foliages that reminded a ship in the frenzied movements on the high seas boxed by the marine mountains. And the windstorm folded again of force, they were already heard the whistles of her orchestration. The rain arose and /her tone emitted, as in Whole Lotta Love, of Led Zeppelin.

And the love hides in the secret of the silence of a woman's lips. She is the Universe and her reincarnation. More valuable it exists to the terrestrial surface, therefore, planetary, that the profundity of a woman's suit smile. And when she is present everything disappears. She is the present of permanent birthday of the human species.

There is who rents her for some time her love, but her when in that noticed fast moves her an action of spilling of her heart.

And the tragedy of the pure love in a lot supplants the one of Titanic.

There is always somebody a lot, very famous, but that keels over in the solitude, because it is her impossible to live without love in the heart.

When a woman's glance irradiates the eternity of the fortress of her intimacy, everything to her circuit became enchanted, it is illuminated, because it is a lot for besides the mystic of the love.

When we contemplated a flower, we let to arrest us for her air white, attractive. It is like this that the love works.

Let us don't leave the love given to her luck

They say that it exists a lost city of the love somewhere, and that all the lovers are seduced mysteriously by her. And you? Don't they want to unmask the mystery of that city?

To love is to wait calmly that the sea finally one decide to send Ulisses for her goddess of the love, Penélope.

And desire that from now on all of the women of the world call themselves, Penélope. And all of the men, Ulisses.

Her, the woman, is, he will be, and for ever and ever she will stay, the source of the eternal beauty of the love, where the thirsty of love in her will take a bath, they will fall in love, and the love will never betray.