Wind
The earth breathes
The breath of a hidden entity

From the leaves of trees
Or from wings of time
Light words
In a poem stuffed with wadding

The trees love it
The birds fly in

My crying stops in front of him
I feel myself light as the air

I am his son and my mother is the earth
I am the son of the wind
And he rule for me

I am his son
And the land is my mother
I am his son
And the earth is my mother

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