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I tied with your rope my things and my words:
Teach me now how to carry so much,
Out the empty and dry walls of mud,
With echoes of steps escaping my world,
And how on the stairs, which go only down,
Stumbling over the trunks of the trees,
Not to fall with the stones on my knees --
Leave not only leaves in Fall on the ground.
And teach how to run across this lame night,
Sowing things which I tied with your rope,
Planting words which I carried alone --
To get through your doors, to break through your mouth.
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