I have only two hands
And the sense of the world,
But I am full of slaves,
My memories flow
And the body concedes
In the confluence of love.
When I rise, the sky
Will be dead and plundered,
I'll be dead myself,
Dead will be my desire, dead
The swamp without chords.
The comrades didn't say
There was a war
And it was necessary
To bring fire and food.
I feel dispersed,
Before the border lines,
I ask you humbly
To forgive me.
When the bodies pass by,
I'll remain alone
Unraveling memories of
The herald, the widow and the nurse
Living in a tent
Who were not found
At the dawn of the day
More night than night itself.