Dry earth
The moon illuminates your simple hair
Art form with a magic
Touching the chisel makes
forever the dream of your heart

Dry earth, cracked
From the high winds
At the border of a world that is constantly bleeding
You dressed in pieces of the moon
and in hot bodies
in people's veins
That they loved you, You hid

Swans in the lake of your dreams
The beauty of white is cool in beauty
Feathers in music too
The waters are slipping quietly

Dry earth, cracked
is waiting for Spring
Like the cool first hope
To fill fruits and perfumes
Flood open skies and thousands of colors