Poems...

To the pack of wolves.

Your eyes... they are even more beautiful...
I am drowning in them,
As in the abyss of a thousand seas.
They are calmer and more enchanting
Than that very lunar darkness.
Your smile is a play of chance.
It is full of suffering and sorrow.
It will pass, slowly, through the ages,
As long as my soul remains alive.
And your pale skin,
Is as white as marble,
Your features are not so simple;
They remind me
Of cruelty, rigidity,
Coldness and ease...
Yes, the appearance of an unyielding rock.
Not tall, but agile,
Slender and strong,
Judicious, intelligent...
A master of all kinds of tricks.
You can easily take on an animal form:
Transform from a human into a wolf,
Back... again... and again
You take on the form of a human.
Hearing the notes of your voice,
All the packs become agitated
And begin to sing to his music,
Looking at the full moon.