efore leaving...
the sun tinges...
and this way the afternoon...
it becomes reddish.
I don‘t imagine that this way
my life would be
trás an ideal
more doesn‘t know which
anything wanted to have.
That great secret keeps the life
that it encourages us or that it motivates us
unsatisfied my being goes for the world.
That somebody tells me
that direction continues
monotony, is every day.
A since illusion didn‘t want to fall
unsatisfied he/she goes for the world.