Interpolated Rotoscoping

I hope is not lost my touch and someone to pick it up ... To all:

runs through my fingers caress without cause,
runs through my fingers ... In the wind, rolling, caressing
aimless wandering or object, caressing
lost, who will pick it up?

I could love tonight with infinite pity, I love the first
who happened to arrive.
No one comes. The flowery paths are alone.
The lost touch, shoot ... roll ...

If the wind they call you tonight, traveler,
if it shakes the branches a gentle sigh
if you pressed a small hand fingers
who takes you and leaves you, and you will achieve.

If you do not see that hand, and mouth kissing, if air
who weaves the illusion of calling, oh
traveler, you have eyes like the sky, the wind
cast, do you recognize?

Words: Alfonsina Storni

Picture: Internet