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December (the round of the months)
December has just come to an end.
The city for him was illuminated,
And all the house was decorated.
How sweet it is to curl
up with your legs bent, on the sofa
In a warm blanket, draped.
To let himself be carried away, sleepy
Without resistance in his childhood dreams,
By the flashing tree, just lit.
And the memories, finally come back released
That it was beautiful this all white
Christmas In this sad country, camouflaging
the grayness of factories and landscapes
to create a dream setting for a wise child.
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