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Nov. 16, 2018, 5:10 p.m.

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Allá por Ancillo de Argoños (Cantabria) cerca del molino Jado cogiendo caracolas amaneciendo ….
Erraba por la orilla de la ría desierta,
interpretando el ritmo de la onda bulliciosa.
Las brisas matinales aromaban el molino,
el alba despeinaba su cabellera al viento.

Y, al rumor apagado de la ronca sonata,
sentí una sangre nueva circular por mis venas,
sangre bermeja digna de un corazón pirata,
o de un moderno Ulises, pescador de sirenas.
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