patience all the wise say is heard in the song of the flowers and in the summer

the clock turns relentlessly the gray clouds take over the sky tile

of the color of the eyes that I love eternally

patience is what my feet have had to stand waiting

one second more the afternoon will end giving way to a night

to a new moon and a new dawn

it's heard from the treetops

patience after spending more than one life as a statue

working tirelessly in the sun and the cold of silence

patience that loses its essence when building ditches that devour the earth

I look at the faint glow of sincerity

and I don't see patience anymore.