It doesn't take anything to get lost
like foam in the current
? been a parenthesis in the light,
an autumn path without leaves
it seems to me that I have sustained wounds and you have not cleaned them
now I foam, with anger or tenderness
I blow the my wind against your fortress
the world does not see, everything? different, inside
I don't even have a stimulus to baseness,
everything in me? poetry and beauty
I don't even dry my hands after love,
so as not to dirty your old rags
I think I understand, you thought I was dead, not hurt
me A few words are enough to get the better of the violet petals.
Doesn't the world see everything? different, inside

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