dry handkerchief

Lend me your eyes once. .I haven't eyes of people, only of a boy. .It's just the time to realize. .From the vision that is blurred to be a woman.
Lend me a cup of salt. .And show me the recipe for the lachrymal broth. . It's just the time to convince you. .'cause not even precipitated I can rain.
It is not an adage that persecutes us. .A man just doesn't cry because he can not.
Lend me this effeminate mourning. .To be masculine is to have a dry handkerchief. . It's just time to make-me-up. .Of transparent weeping (the woman's color).
I was not born stone, I was born boy. .A man just doesn't cry because he isn't able to.
Men make fire, with two sticks they make fire. .By exchange I teach you to burn.
You are current and I pretend to be sea. .'cause a man, to cry, he can not cry.