On the top of the wind we will build our house

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The time has come that you said
when the wind would strip our branches bare,
when the cold would find us in each other's arms,
and our mute tongues, of impossible birds.
would give sounds to the whole house.

It was for this time that we accumulated caresses,
that every day and every night you spoke to me,
that we sheltered the good memories
from oblivion, from time, from mold and spiders.

Autumn has arrived and has transformed the landscape.
Some things fade into the distance:
impatience is behind us, as are the ghosts,
our still, sown and starved bodies,
without time they accompany each other.

It was for the autumn that we made this ribbon
in the spring it was easy
because one survives only with laughter.
But in this season everything falls withered
Driven by tedium, tears or the breeze.
But here we are,
above the treetops,
Of the fierce time that annihilates everything.
Here we remain,
clinging to the roots,
and may winter find us
with joined hands.