71 THE TEST OF THE TIME HAND ROLLING AGAIN

The test of the time hand rolling again.

In the tavern this cry of Celtic fire In her volcanic rose she rests, between the clandestine applause to the waitress in front of the comb that the stupid reasons Comb Moaning nonsense, raising laughter They bring to the golden glow of adversary lips Lava and ice narrowed in the breath of breath And in the flames and in the cravings The thorns slide From crunch to petal caress her hair Ask if He boasts, no Invaders who will tangle in your locks loosen The thought of the reasonable Greeks.