Oh! billow of this mountain wind
please hurry
and convey to her
my very own perfume
dance
and waltz
because you can
and gather pace
like a typhoon
caress her temples
blow her locks wild
because you can
and I am banned
she is still
irate for nothing
and I want her back
so fly O! the one that carries many in flights
gather salt
from humidity
and deposit
it all on her lips
so that when
she finally is in my arms
she knows my salt’s worth!