The Birds of Our City

Will the boat of love striking the iceberg of the everyday break apart? Will the body of this love burn in the crematorium furnace? Will the heart of this love in the market of goods amid the clamor of rising and falling prices lost be forgotten? And will time prevail over the beauty of red roses? Will it be stopped the train of this love without a transit permit behind the border? ... ... ... Two birds like two planes at great festivals wing to wing circle above the city above the horizon, past the border of night...