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Walkin between lands full of purity
invaded by embracing roots
atornney of this beautifull nature
of our colds paths and mountains

We see how it gets close the tragedy to our landscapes
We hear the cry of our ancestors
and the agony of the air whispering calm.
We hear the cry of our ancestors

In the face of the moon and stars rest the spirits
in the face of the moon gets reflected our cold expresions

I take air to fall into the clear waters
where the feeling of the death torments me more that the silence of my mind

I fall and fall till I get drown
until I float like leafs in autum upun the lake

with this beautifull and cold air
seeing like the mountains breath the dense fog
and listening the voice of the storm that is coming
I fall in love more and more with this gray day.

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