AEOLIAN HARPS
3 febrero 2011
In the middle of the night
voices of winds talked in my head,
I feel them scream and shout, naughty
the calm ones, talking
about traditions of Catalonia.
And their music of ancient gods
go ahead with their trend.
Even my hair and my skin
is electrified by their force.
No one can stop them.
Playing with all they find
like goblins who can’t rest
they push up branches and leaves.
Pla, our writer describe them,
eight winds of the land.
Playing to death with their
ESPINAYFLOR WRITINGS 
