Tell me that there is a reason for me being alive,
that there is a final meaning...

Life is a case of watercolour,
caterpillars relinquishing being crawlers...

So, then, does a dummy always says
what ventriloquist want him to say...

Have you ever drunk from the goblet of yourself?
Have you ever distinguished...

You are incurable
Because you are your own disease...

This scrap of dirt,
this portion of earth...

Not finding it anywhere
but in yourselves...

Like a bird in the cage
of a unceasing movie of fly...

I am from an ocean beyond your eyes,
_ that is why your eyes are beckoning me...

I was thirsty
like the smelted sands of deserts...

The more it is bruised
the more iridescent it...

It would always shine
before it is blurred with what...