of the summer wind;
like a salted kiss against your cheek.
The seawind is the mother we always seek.
The tickles of the pine needles,
You and your thoughts whom always stay here in one of those beautiful feelings.
The tingle in the palm of both of your hands;
when you move them in those magnificent grains from the sand..
And suddenly you remember:
The summer wind as a salty kiss against your cheek, that must be it, the reason for we always seek…