The warmth

The warmth Feeling wrinkled is not for lack of warmth; With the noise of the claws of loneliness; Between bites of sublime incense; Joy and brotherhood, avoiding falsehood; The swarm, a thin flock, climbs to the sky; Between wrinkles, dead hours and sickle blows; ... L'EMPORDÀ {SOPA DE CABRA} TITI TIME (c).