Where are the minds that one day cared me?
They nursed me more than they nursed themselves.
Some years ago, they went away
to the earth of the landscape.
If they were earth, how could they loved me?
How could they be a pure and strong wish?
If they were thought, how could they die?
The will remains, the matter fades away.
When the wind blows, I think of them
as if they were the air that moves away,
and their heart talked with silent voice
around my skin, and they were wakeful.
Some day they had a whole world inside,
they were as strong and tall as trees.
I was their heritage, their dreams,
but one day they turn into ground.
I can't understand how the thrill
can born or die from dust of stars.
Where is the thrill when body passes?
And when the fire fizzles out,
and star gets dark in coldest night,
where are the minds that one day loved?