The word has a thousand wings full of fear. How can I see? Love of the
Earth is not enough; complete freedom is required. Yes, when it comes time for
the paving to shake, to walk barefoot, I will collect my breath like a bouquet
of flowers smiling for the near future. Here, the word freezes, you need
another poetry, a body that trembles. My words are cool message, thorns
permeate me; I multiply in the fields of language as a harsh tent, I am still
powerless; the language is looking for new sailors. No, the sun is not enough
to symbolize freedom and the distances persecute me; I am still stuck to the
ground. My words feel cold and my limbs are freezing like trains inhabited by
snow travelers.
