His soul dreams of
His narrow world
When will it succeed?
When will he jump?
His gaze is in the passing of the bars
Grown so tired that he can't hold anything anymore
He feels as if there were a thousand sticks
And behind a thousand sticks there is no world
When will the time come to escape ?
The longing doesn't stop anything
The imminent freedom calls to him:
âGet up and run!â
A person lies dead on the ground
â />In front of the cage door
It was successful
He jumped
The soft gait of supple, strong steps
Which turns in the smallest of circles
It's like a dance Strength around a center
In which a great will is stunned
When will the one leap come
That he will succeed in escaping
The imminent freedom calls to him:
âGet up and jump!â
Only sometimes does the curtain of the pupil slide open
It opens silently, then an image enters
Passes through the tense silence
And ceases to be in the heart