O dry and thirsty land in which I am rooted in you
, I have no medicine, I mourn your sorrow, I mourn your
lonely soil, and I am patient with you, but I endure, the
moments of waiting, as I count my breath,
one day there was a garden here, when it was night, there was a lamp,
but as soon as the night broke, it sat down for a
new night,
the thirst that was the news that was there
was no one, the cloud that was
, the strange wind that blew the chest of the tears. When it came, there was no cloud,
there was no despair, when it came, there was no patience, the
soil was alone, and I am patient with you, but I am permanent, the
moments of waiting, because I count my breath,
now here I am with you, O soil of tired soil,
I am with you, my existence bit by bit,
I am with you forever, I live with you forever, with good and bad, this
field, everything I have, this is all
I have, this is my
lonely and patient mother with you. But I endure the
moments of waiting, because I count my breath,
if it is very difficult to stay, whatever it is, it is a beginning,
a step to the opening of a window, to the dawn of
autumn, I saw it together, I saw it together, I was sad, not cold,
I loved this land, I stayed to see the spring, I
stayed to see the spring,
I knew life here,
I always burned, I always built, I
put everything I had
here.
