TODAY HE PAINTED

Today I painted, beautiful things.
I painted dreams.
He painted what he paints a poet, in his madness.
But in my dream, I looked, the swelling of a body.
The jet black color of his hair,
The glare of his eyes,
The smooth, soft and fresh skin.
My gaze has settled on a sculpture of a woman.
It was perfection, realized,
It was the dream of a sick mind with passion.
I know of love as desired,
Nor have I thought of finding,
Only in my palette and my brush,
You made real and beautiful, you dressed gala.
Your eyes the color of the sea, dark green,
They looked at me tenderly,
Your gentle smile was reflected on the canvas.
And in the madness of this mind good,
Reviviste past loves, sublime.
Do not forget tonight I painted,
The pipe dream of my life.
I remain very guarded memories,
To have had you in my presence,
Through a palette and a brush.
              JUAN CARLOS VILLANUEVA