When the North wind,
speaks with its great voice
to tell me to go
towards the South.
when the tendencies
of my beautiful wings,
hear the word of the great voice,
they hope for deliverance from winter.
Coll? in, in the white
cold of the snow,
my weakened wings,
but my eyes which can look
all that I know, all my known
s 'go away, leave me alone.
When the great winds
of the great sea,
blow with great fists of water,
when the sky and the earth quarrels for the winter.
when the wings of old geese,
break in the storm,
it's the same thing,
s' they break in the North or the South.
Noy? with my head hidden,
hidden under a flag of water,
without sense to feel
all the delirium
of enjoying with my lover
flying in the sky.
When revenge
of a beautiful lie
comes to show itself at the edge of your bed
without lover, without hope.
when the fatigue of the great journey traces its stories? through your face,
a dream of flying will come back
to call you? migrate

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