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Fighting away from the caravan, lost in the sands, a deserted hermit of knowledge, dryly raving from this melting dream, on the horizon of the heart, at the sunset of the soul in the heat-dripping sugar of life ... and each brilliant reality, after a moment, only a mirage, under a red disc. ; and at the beginning of the path of these instantly there are so few, and then these 40 moments-days stretch out the endless caravan of the tormenting eyes of the hermits of memories! .. And the drying, cracked lips will finally find this well of their own, this answer, this brilliant reality under the red disc; They will find and after a moment will dry, complementing this endless chain of caravan of the tormenting eyes of hermit memories. P.S. And only a little Scorpio will linger for a moment of your trace, froze, stakes, think and rushed to his melting dream, to his horizon of oblivion, in his sultry sugar of life ...