The moon is thin, the air is cold,
As all the evening stories unfold.
We walk along the silver path,
Away from all the city’s wrath.
Your hand in mine, a steady hold,
To brave the bitter winter cold.
A universe above our head,
While all the weary world is bed.
Santiago translates the passionate, fiery rhythms of the tango into perfect, rhythmic verses. His poetry explores the intoxicating dance of romance, the sharp sting of betrayal, and the deep, soulful longing of the human heart.
The murals cover every wall,The vibrant stories of us all.The blues, the reds, the striking green,The most alive...
The accordion begins to weep,To wake the passion from its sleep.Two bodies move in perfect time,A beautiful, kinetic...