My cells are thirsting for the sky
but, with my soul, rough and stiff,
how can I reach it, how could I
achieve my freedom? It’s as if
between the future and the past,
between the earthly and tomorrow
where timeless joy is meant to last,
where’s no room for any sorrow,
between contrasting worlds I’m sandwiched.
The realms are pulling me. They call
I recognize their language:
one is of slavery – to crawl,
to bend, accepting human fate,
the other is a pure flight
of vision, of my dreams innate,
a pure unpolluted sight
of something great, something great.
26.11.2011- 28.01.2012