While at first sight it gives us
a mutilated Spring,
all shades of green splash together and merge,
trying hard to bring something into form.
Like a small river in a grove where
a tender-faced nymph appeared
and walked smoothly into a pool
dreaming of her own mortality.
Silence is on the canvas but loud in the myth
preserved inside a memory.
The nymph, her nudity on the river bed,
iridescent, the color