In the silence of its harmony
And of his family cyclicity,
That's the way it is
Of time and days,
its centre shines forth,
hypnotic
in ancient and futuristic sequences
That catch the eye,
and then let him go.
Come up, the world stops,
It seems to us it is ours,
everything at a glance,
you could talk about love,
or of simple detachment.
When I got off I still wondered,
if you want to touch the sky
or surrender to a feeling
Doomed to be illusion.
