Your message is scary, and I can't stand all this longing. I am
learning the song; my eyes will never fall again and my hands will not be
noisy. This is a pledge and a celebration. I will go to the far market in
search of my start. And as an old lover, I will repeat every absent dream that
fades before evening on the foliage. I will tell my story for many generations,
and Like a bitter rain, I will slowly fade, and I will stand wet in the middle
of the road hoping for you. And loudly I will sing my sorrow; that the crazy
Corona told me everything and taught me the game of silent life. I am learning
because I am a good student sitting behind a tightly closed door without sharp
eyes and without hard heart.
